Mom won’t look at me, her eyes going warily from Prue to Dad. Whose eyes snap open at the sound of my voice.
“What’s he doing here?” He spits, looking at Prue. “Make him leave. I don’t want him here!”
I fight the urge to flinch, the need to recoil in my chair, to try and disappear within myself, but Prue doesn’t move an inch.
“Jack made me come all the way here when I’d rather have cut all my own limbs off. We’ll leave whenhe’s done talking to you and not before.”
He turns, wincing at the movement and struggling to sit up. Mom rushes to help, moving the pillows to his back and adjusting the sheet covering him.
“Get out,” he grits out. “Get out! I want him out!”
“I’ll be quick,” I say as Prue tenses more and more behind me. “I’m here to thank you.”
Both of their eyes narrow in suspicion. Prue’s breath stops.
“Thank you for rejecting me. It was the best thing you could ever do. It was hard at first, realizing that my parents didn’t love me, but turns out itwas also freeing. Because, in a way, I don’t remember you ever truly loving me. I’m better off now. I’m surrounded by good people. People who love me unconditionally.
“And thank you for adopting Prue, because she’s the actual sun of my life. She makes me grow, her light makes me better. She’s the purest heart I’ve ever seen. And I don’t need people like you, especially when I have her to stand by my side. You might have rejectedme, but she rejectedyoufor it.
“So thank you for both those things. For giving me the best sister I could ever hope for, and setting me free from you, because I don’t think I would have ever freed myself.”
Mom’s eyes are everywhere but on me, looking at Dad and sometimes at Prue. Dad’s face is so red it’s turning almost purple. I can almost hear his teeth grinding against each other in his mouth.
“Get out, you’re no son of mine.”
My jaw clenches uncontrollably, but my face stays calm, as collected as possible.
“I can’t bear to look at you, GET OUT!” He yells, drool sputtering from his mouth.
I can vaguely hear the door opening behind us and quick footsteps before I feel a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I wish I never adopted you. Everyday I curse myself for it! People like you don’t deserve to live! That’s why you’re sick! God is punishing you for being depraved. What you do—what you are, it’s sinful! Unnatural! God, how I wished everyday that your sickness would have taken you away before! At least then I would have mourned you! Because now, the only thing that I’ll regret is—”
“I suggest you bereallycareful how you end this sentence, or not end it at all, you poor excuse of a human being!” Evie scolds calmly but loud enough to cover my father’s words, taking a protective step forward. “And you! I really hope you feel ashamed for letting that monster speak to your son like this!”
There’s a loud silence in the room, my father looking at Evie with murdering eyes.
“Shame on you people,” she adds. “All of the children you adopted deserve way better than you. Now, since I’m not one to wish people harm, I wish you a good recovery and a long life to regret all of the wrong things you’vedone and said.”
Prue leans forward to look at me and I nod. Not more than ten seconds later, we’re out of the room, our father audibly cursing through the shut door behind us. Facing us in the hallway are our three embarrassed looking siblings.
“They should never have been allowed to adopt kids,” Nate mutters from Prue’s side.
One of Ikram’s hands finds mine while the other stays on the handle behind my chair.
“I know you guys must be tired after the flight and the… Confrontation. But would you come have a coffee with us?” Naveen asks, casting a glance towards Tham.
Everyone is looking at me, waiting for me to decide. After the quick but stressful moment I’ve spent in there, I’d love nothing more but to run away and lock myself in my room. But I guess it can’t be worse, and it’ll be good to clear the air with our siblings, so I nod silently.
“I want to head back to my room,” Evie sighs sadly. “Do you mind getting the coffee at the hotel’s restaurant? So I don’t have to find a cab of my own.”
“Sure,” Tham says with a polite smile, then to me, “Text me the address, we’ll meet you there.”
All three of them leave towards the elevator, but we wait a few seconds for the door to close before we start moving.
“Thank you,” I say, to no one in particular. To all of them.
“Do you… feel okay?” Prue asks.
