My phone buzzed.
“Fine. Coming.”
That was it.
No concern.
No urgency.
Just permission granted.
They arrived almost thirty minutes later.
I saw the SUV pull up through the window.
Greg driving.
My mom in the passenger seat.
Samantha in the back.
Normal.
Everything about them looked normal.
That was the worst part.
I stood too quickly.
The room spun.
Outside, the cold air hit my face like a shock.
I made it to the car barely upright.
The window rolled down halfway.
Greg leaned toward it.
“Trying to skip school?”
Not “Are you okay?”
Not “What happened?”
Just accusation.
“I…” I started.
Nothing came out.
My mom turned slightly.
“Get in, Ethan. You’re letting cold air in.”
I climbed into the back seat.
Next to Samantha.
The movement triggered something violent inside me.
Pain exploded across my abdomen.
My vision flashed white.
I grabbed the seat in front of me.
Trying not to throw up.
Samantha glanced over.
“You look gross.”
I leaned back.
Breathing uneven.
The car smelled like fast food and artificial vanilla.
It made everything worse.
“Well?” my mom said.
“It hurts,” I managed. “Really bad.”
Greg looked at me in the mirror.
“What, appendicitis now?”
“I don’t know. I just need—”
“You know your dad used to do this,” he cut in.
There it was.
Always the same move.
Take whatever was happening…
And turn it into proof I was someone else.
“Every little thing,” Greg continued. “Always dramatic.”
My mom laughed lightly.
“He really was.”
I stared at the back of her seat.
“I need the hospital,” I said.
Samantha groaned.
“Seriously?”
My mom turned.
“You better not be doing this for attention.”
For a second…
I almost believed her.
Maybe I was exaggerating.
Maybe I was overreacting.
Maybe—
The car hit a pothole.
And the world split open.
Pain shot through me so violently I couldn’t breathe.
I doubled forward with a broken sound.
Greg swore and shoved a bag toward me.
“Don’t throw up on the seats.”
I did.
Samantha pressed herself against the door.
“Oh my God.”
My mom sighed.
Not scared.
Just annoyed.
I couldn’t speak anymore.
We drove past urgent care.
I saw it through the window.
“Please,” I whispered.
“What?” my mom asked.
“Stop. Please.”
Greg shook his head.
“That costs money.”
“I have insurance,” my mom said.
“But we don’t even know if this is serious.”
“It is,” I said.
“You don’t know that.”
I couldn’t sit up anymore.
Everything hurt.
And then—
Samantha’s voice cut through everything.
“My phone is dying.”
Silence.
Then panic.
“Like actually dying. It’s at ten percent.”
Nobody responded.
“I have a FaceTime in twenty minutes,” she continued. “If I don’t answer, Owen’s going to think I’m ignoring him.”
Greg chuckled.
“Teen emergencies.”
My mom didn’t laugh.
But she didn’t dismiss it either.
“Hospital,” I said again.
Barely a voice now.
They exchanged a look.
I knew that look.
The one where they decided…
Whether I mattered enough.
“There’s a Best Buy right there,” my mom said.
For a second, I thought I misheard.
“We’ll grab a charger. It’ll take two minutes.”
“No.”
My voice came out sharper than I expected.
Everyone turned.
“Excuse me?” my mom said.
“No. Please. I need a hospital.”
Samantha leaned forward.
“It’s literally five minutes.”
Greg looked at me through the mirror.
Cold.
Flat.
“Stop being dramatic.”
Then—
“Five minutes won’t kill you.”
That sentence…
Would echo later.
In rooms that actually mattered.
But in that moment—
It sounded like a decision.
Greg turned into the parking lot.
The building stood there.
Bright.
Clean.
Normal.
Everything about it looked harmless.
Which made what happened next even worse.
My mom unbuckled.
“Don’t,” I said.
She paused.
Just for a second.
“Ethan…”
“Please don’t leave me.”
For a moment…
Something shifted in her face.
Then Greg opened his door.
“Come on.”
Samantha was already out.
My mom sighed.
“We’ll be right back.”
The lock clicked.
Sharp.
Final.
And just like that—
They were gone.
PART 3
At first, I stayed conscious.
Out of disbelief more than strength.
I watched them walk away.
Across the parking lot.
Together.
Like nothing was wrong.
A normal family.
Running a normal errand.
That was the part that broke something inside me.
Not the pain.
Not the fear.
The normality.
I tried the door.
Locked.
I hit the unlock button.
Nothing.
Child lock.
Of course.
My phone slipped in my hand.
My fingers wouldn’t cooperate.
Everything felt… disconnected.
Outside, people moved around casually.
Loading boxes.
Talking.
Living.
No one looked in.
Why would they?
From the outside, it was just a parked car.
Inside…
I was folding in on myself.
I pressed my forehead against the window.
The glass felt freezing.
Through the store windows, I could see them.
My mom.
Holding two charger boxes.
Comparing.
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