Chapter 5
"Mom," I said, "you need to leave."
She looked offended.
"Excuse me?"
"My daughter is recovering. This isn't the place."
"We came all this way!"
"Twenty minutes," I said. "You drove twenty minutes."
Dad interrupted.
"We need to settle the paperwork."
He held out a document.
I looked down.
It was a printed loan application.
My name appeared at the top.
Underneath it were blank spaces for information they still needed.
My mother lowered her voice.
"Sweetheart, if you just sign this, everyone can stop fighting."
I looked at her.
"You came to the hospital to make me sign a loan?"
She frowned.
"We came to see our granddaughter, obviously."
"Then what's her doctor's name?"
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
"What medication is she receiving?"
"How would I know that?"
"What room is she in?"
My mother looked toward Dad.
He looked away.
I nodded.
"Exactly."
Jason finally stepped forward.
"This is ridiculous. Can we just handle this and go?"
Something about that sentence broke the last thread connecting me to the family I'd spent my whole life trying to please.
Handle this and go.
As if my daughter's hospitalization were simply an inconvenient stop on the way to a travel agency.
I took the folder from Dad's hand.
For one second, his expression brightened.
He thought I'd surrendered.
Instead, I held it against my chest and said, "Thank you."
He blinked.
"For what?"
"For bringing me a printed copy of the application you tried to start without my consent."
His face changed.
I continued.
"The lender already has my fraud report. I'm keeping this."
Mom went pale.
Dad stepped closer.
"Now wait a minute—"
"No. You wait."
My voice wasn't loud.
That was what made them listen.
"I sent three messages when Layla was admitted. None of you answered. I sat in this hospital wondering whether my daughter would survive, and not one of you asked what we needed."
Mom's eyes filled with angry tears.
"We had a wedding to think about!"
"Then think about the wedding."
I looked at Jason.
"Think about the honeymoon. Think about your photographs, your expensive reservations, and whatever you want to tell Brianna."
Then I looked back at my parents.
"But understand something. My daughter will never again be used as leverage to get money from me."
Dad's jaw tightened.
"You're destroying this family."
I shook my head.
"No. I'm refusing to finance its destruction of mine."