Chapter 4

They rushed Maria to an urgent care clinic, a whirlwind of panic and accusations. My father, my brother, Ethan, all of them. They didn't even look back.

The house fell silent. The half-eaten meal sat on the table, a testament to my humiliation. My hands were on fire, covered in an angry, weeping rash. But the pain was nothing compared to the cold emptiness inside me.

It was over. Truly over.

I went upstairs and pulled a single suitcase from my closet. I didn't pack much. A few clothes, my laptop, my art supplies. The rest of it, the life I had here, felt tainted, like it belonged to someone else.

I looked around the room I grew up in. The ribbons from my equestrian competitions, the photos of a smiling family that no longer existed. I left them all.

Later that night, I was dragging my suitcase down the stairs when the front door burst open.

They were back.

They didn't see me standing in the shadows of the hallway. They were talking, their voices low but clear.

"The doctor said it was just a mild reaction, probably to some pollen on her clothes," my father was saying. "She'll be fine."

"She was so scared," Andrew said. "We can't let Jocelyn do something like this again. We need to protect Maria."

Then I heard my father's next words, and they stopped my heart.

"You're right. Maria needs more space. She's an artist, like Jocelyn. She should have Jocelyn's room. The one with the attached art studio."

They were going to give away my room. My sanctuary. The one place in this house that was still mine.

I stepped out of the shadows.

They all froze, startled.

"Take it," I said. My voice was eerily calm. "She can have the room. She can have all of it. I'm leaving."

My father's face darkened with anger.

"Leaving? Don't be so dramatic, Jocelyn. You're not going anywhere. You're going to stay here and apologize to Maria for what you did."

"I have nothing to apologize for," I said, walking past them towards the door. "And I'm not being dramatic. I'm moving out."

I opened the front door. A sudden thunderstorm had broken, and rain was lashing down.

"You walk out that door, you're no longer my daughter!" my father yelled at my back.

I didn't stop.

"Don't you dare come crawling back when you realize what a mistake you've made!" Andrew shouted after me.

I stepped out into the pouring rain, the cold water a welcome shock. I was halfway down the driveway when I heard footsteps running behind me. It was Ethan.

"Jocelyn, wait," he said, grabbing my arm.

For a crazy second, I thought he was going to apologize. To say he believed me.

"This is insane," he said. "Just go back inside. Apologize to Maria. Tell her you're sorry. If you do that... maybe we can try again. I'll think about getting back together with you."

I looked at him, the boy I had loved for so long. And I felt nothing. Just a vast, empty pity.

"No, Ethan," I said, pulling my arm away. "Never."

I turned and walked away. A car was waiting for me at the curb, an Uber I'd called from my room. As I got in, another car screeched to a halt behind it. It was Andrew's. His headlights flashed frantically, illuminating the rain. I could see his face through the windshield, a look of sudden, dawning panic.

Maybe he saw the finality in my eyes. Maybe he finally realized I was serious.

I didn't care.

"Go," I told the driver. "Just go."

The car pulled away, leaving my old life, my old family, and the flashing headlights behind in the storm.