There it was.
Not concern.
Not remorse.
A test.
I closed my eyes for one second.
When I opened them again, I looked at the nurse instead of my mother.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Tessa grabbed her purse from the chair.
“This is insane,” she said. “You’re seriously letting her get us removed?”
The charge nurse moved toward the door.
“I’m asking you to leave voluntarily.”
My mother did not move at first.
Her face was pale with anger and embarrassment.
She looked at me like I had betrayed the family by letting strangers see the truth.
Maybe I had.
Maybe that was what truth always looked like in a house built on pretending.
Tessa walked out first.
My mother followed slowly.
At the doorway, she turned back.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she said.
My ribs ached.
My throat burned.
My leg was trapped under the brace.
