Chapter 20: My Family Made Me Happy Again

Chapter 20: My Family Made Me Happy Again
I didn’t want to go back. Every part of me resisted the idea of stepping foot in that city again, but deep down, I knew I had to. It wasn’t for me—it was for Jack. Paying my last respects to him was the only thing I could offer at this moment, and though my chest ached at the thought, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Dylan had no idea what was racing through my mind. She was focused on her work, flipping through files and checking a chart like nothing unusual was happening. Her calm presence almost made me want to stay, but the decision had already been made.

“Dylan,” I said softly, unsure if my voice would even reach her, “I have to take my leave now…”

She looked up, startled. “You want to leave without taking your medications?” Her tone was laced with concern, her brows knitting together.

“Yes, ma’am. My family needs me. I have to go, and I’ll be back once everything is okay.” I stood up from the chair where I had been sitting, forcing myself upright though my knees trembled.

She hesitated, eyes searching mine as if trying to read a truth I wasn’t sharing. “Okay… can you at least tell me what’s going on? If I can help out, I’d like to try.”

I shook my head, already clutching my bag. “I don’t think you can help. It’s a family problem, and getting you involved might hurt you. It already killed someone who got into it.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t give her time to ask more. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Please keep an eye on your phone.” My words rushed out, then I turned and hurried out of the hospital before doubt could drag me back.

Outside, the air hit me like a slap, heavy and sharp. I climbed into the car waiting by the curb, gave the driver the location through the chat, and sank into the seat. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. My silence filled the vehicle like smoke.

The ride stretched long. The journey to my parents’ city would take three hours, and my body grew restless. I finally decided to switch cars halfway, taking a private bus. At least on the bus I could stretch my legs and let my mind wander, even if the wandering hurt.

The highway blurred by in streaks of green and gray. My thoughts tangled with memories—Jack’s laughter, his absence, the weight of my father’s chair that always seemed so impossibly solid. I pressed my forehead against the window, whispering prayers I wasn’t sure would be heard.

At last, the bus rolled into the familiar streets of my city. My stomach twisted as the driver turned down the road leading to my parents’ house. The mansion loomed in the distance, tall and intimidating, its gates standing like silent guards. For a moment, I couldn’t move. My feet felt anchored to the ground.

I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and forced myself forward. One step. Then another. I passed through the small outer gate and approached the second gate where security stood. Relief washed through me when they recognized me immediately. At least one barrier had opened without resistance.

Inside the compound, the air smelled of trimmed grass and polished stone. My heart was hammered. I hadn’t told my parents I was coming—I wanted it to be a surprise. They had made it clear they didn’t want me to return home, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.

The big door loomed ahead, carved from heavy wood and iron. My hand shook as I pushed it open. It creaked loudly, as if announcing my return to the entire house. I stepped into the foyer, each footstep echoing like a secret revealed.

Voices drifted from the living room. I followed the sound, nerves prickling along my skin. I paused at the doorway, uncertain whether I would be welcomed or rejected.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” I asked as I stepped inside.

The scene froze. Jenna sat on the sofa by the window, my mother in her favorite chair. My father’s seat was empty. Both their faces shifted from confusion to shock, then to joy.

“Betty!” Jenna’s voice cracked as she jumped to her feet.

“Betty, my child!” My mother’s eyes filled with tears.

They rushed at me together, hugging me so tightly I lost balance and fell backward onto the floor. Their laughter and tears mixed as they pulled me back up, their smiles radiant. My own heart soared seeing their happiness, though unease still gnawed at me. Where was my father?

“Where is Dad?” The words slipped out too quickly as I scanned the room.

I darted toward the hallway, but Jenna caught my arm. Her grip trembled.

“Wait… Dad’s not at home,” she said. Tears welled in her eyes until they spilled down her cheeks.

Panic surged through me. “What happened? Why are you crying?”

Her voice broke. “D-dad was…” Jenna couldn't put her words together as tears dropped down her eyes.

I froze, my throat tightening. “You can’t put words together? Why? Where’s my father, Jenna? Where is he?”

Her voice faded, weak as though carried from a far-off place. I couldn’t bear the uncertainty pressing down on me.

The room tilted suddenly. Darkness rushed in like a wave. My body gave way, and before I could process it, I collapsed. My head hit the floor with a dull thud, pain flashing across my skull.

“Betty!” Jenna’s scream pierced the haze.

I felt arms around me, shaking me gently, but my eyelids refused to lift. The world narrowed to muffled voices and the cold floor beneath me.

Jenna’s voice cracked with urgency as she snatched up my phone. A call flashed across the screen—the driver. “No, sir, don’t leave! Please drive into the house—we need your help! My sister just went unconscious, please hurry!”

She hung up before waiting for a reply. Moments later, hurried footsteps and the rumble of the bus filled the driveway. Together, Jenna and my mother carried me outside, their breaths short and frantic.

The driver leapt down to help, and within seconds, they eased me into the bus. My mother’s hands trembled as she adjusted me onto the seat, whispering prayers under her breath.

“Please, hurry!” Jenna urged, her voice sharp with desperation.

The driver sped off, the heavy vehicle jerking as though it were a small car. Time blurred again, broken only by the sound of my mother’s whispered pleas and Jenna’s sharp breaths.

We reached the hospital. This place was different—always prepared, doctors waiting outside for emergencies. They moved with precision, their white coats flashing under the bright lights. One of them, young and sharp-eyed, caught Jenna’s gaze for a brief second. I heard her suck in a breath, admiration flickering even in the midst of panic.

They lifted me out swiftly, carrying me inside. Jenna and my mother followed close behind, their eyes never leaving me. I was wheeled into a room, the smell of antiseptic sharp in the air.

I drifted in and out, but I felt the presence of my family near me. I sensed my phone buzzing in my bag and my husband called but I ignored it. He was the reason we were facing so much pain. I couldn’t let his voice poison this moment.

The doctors worked quickly, preparing treatments and checking my vitals. Before they began, one of them turned to Jenna. “We need someone to fill out a form. Who is she to you?”

“I’m her sister,” Jenna said firmly. “And I’ll handle it.”

She scribbled furiously, handing back the paper. I knew she was scared, but her strength in that moment gave me hope.

I sat in a haze, listening to the rustle of papers and the hum of machines. After what felt like forever, the doctor returned, holding a file. My heart leapt, assuming it was the bill. I fumbled for my phone to make the payment immediately, anything to ease the weight on my family.

But the doctor held up his hand. “No. I came for another reason. Not for payment or documents. This is something ve
ry, very important.”

Her voice trembled, as though what she was about to say would change everything.

My breath caught. “What is it? Please, tell me.”