That night, I watched helplessly as Keith pulled Sadie into his arms, his face full of concern as he asked repeatedly if she was hurt. Then, without sparing me a second glance, he helped her out of the room.
Before leaving, he threw one disgusted remark over his shoulder, "If you've lost your mind, clean it up and apologize when you're thinking straight."
He never gave me a chance to explain and never asked why I acted that way. In his eyes, I was just a rude, brainless orphan—someone who would never understand proper behavior.
The next day, I packed my things and checked out of the hospital.
I went to see Elizabeth, the only person in this world who truly cared for me. She held my hands in sorrow, her voice trembling. "Zoey, are you really leaving? Keith has feelings for you. Won't you reconsider? That foolish boy—I'll set him straight for you. Please, don't go."
I looked out at the bare trees outside the window. Parting was always sad, but things would get better eventually. "Grandma, I've already made up my mind. Please don't tell Keith for now."
That afternoon, Keith called me. His voice had lost all its warmth. Ever since Sadie returned, everything had changed beyond recognition.