It hit me then: I was the expendable one.
From childhood to adulthood. From being sensible to being obedient. Silently walking every path they'd designed after faking poverty.
Making me an outcast as a kid, too scared to speak up.
Making me hide my illness as an adult, too scared to burden them.
Making me choose death over dragging them down.
So all of it was just... an act they'd constructed on purpose.
And for what? To temper me?
Dinner ended.
Mom picked up her phone and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. She pressed the voice-message button, a faint trace of happiness still lingering on her face.
"Ellie, I'm guessing you're still busy—you haven't seen the voice message I sent."
"It's nothing urgent. I just wanted to let you know."
"Your dad and I are at Lakeside Manor, Building 3. Whenever you get off work, just come straight here."
I watched her quietly and tugged a bitter smile from the corner of my mouth.
I wanted so badly to tell her: Mom, I can never come back.
I sat on the massive crystal chandelier in the living room, silently watching from above.