"Leave. Don’t bother telling him about the child. He doesn’t deserve to know."
I left the hospital and returned home.
As I was packing my bags, John Garcia returned.
He looked exhausted, underlined by dark circles—clearly from running around for Jessica Hernandez.
Upon seeing me pack, his fatigue instantly morphed into anger，
"What are you doing?"
I shook off his hand, secured my suitcase, and turned away.
John blocked my path, his anger boiling over，
"What’s gotten into you! Didn't you get out of there unharmed? Why are you still leaving?"
