Nurse Marisol opened the door, stepping into the room with a watchful, protective expression. She had witnessed the entire interaction with Julian earlier and could clearly read the high tension in the room.

“Is everything alright in here?” Marisol asked, her eyes moving between my parents and the heart monitor, which was beginning to beep at a faster rate.

“My guests were just leaving,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed on my father. “They have a lot of packing to do.”

My father stared at me for a long moment, his expression a mix of shock, resentment, and a sudden, terrifying realization of the financial reality he was now facing. He knew me well enough to know that once I made a decision, I never looked back. He grabbed my mother’s arm, pulling her toward the door.

“Come on,” he muttered bitterly to her. “Let’s go.”

“No! Arthur, we can’t just leave!” she protested, but he dragged her out into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind them.

The silence that followed was heavy, but for the first time since the accident, I felt like I could finally breathe. I leaned back into the pillows, closing my eyes as the quiet rhythm of the hospital returned. The cost of their neglect had been high, but the price of my freedom was entirely worth it.