Chapter 2

The hospital room buzzed with a forced cheerfulness that felt alien to Alicia.

Ava sat propped up in bed, a delicate bandage across her nose, looking for all the world like a fragile doll.

Julian was peeling an apple for her with intense concentration, the blade of the knife moving with meticulous precision. Dante was fluffing her pillows, his movements clumsy but earnest.

Alicia stood by the door, an invisible wall separating her from the cozy domestic scene.

She had come to say goodbye.

Not just goodbye for a trip, but a real, final goodbye. And they didn't even know it.

"I' ve always wanted to see Hawaii," Ava said, her voice a little dreamy. "The beaches, the volcanoes... it sounds like paradise."

"Then we'll go," Julian said immediately, not looking up from his task. "As soon as you're cleared to travel. Consider it a recovery trip."

"Oh, Julian, you're the best," Ava cooed, reaching out to touch his arm.

Dante beamed. "We'll book the best resort. First class all the way. Anything for you, Ava."

This was her chance. Her last chance.

"Julian, Dante," Alicia said, her voice stronger than she expected. "I need to tell you something."

Three pairs of eyes turned to her. Julian' s were impatient. Dante' s were wary. Ava' s held a glint of challenge.

"I'm leaving," Alicia said. "I've accepted a position. It's... a long-term project. I'll be gone for a while."

Dante scoffed. "Still being dramatic, I see. Where are you going? A weekend trip to the library?"

"No," Alicia said, her heart sinking. They weren't listening. They weren't even trying. "It's a research fellowship. With the National Research Institute."

Julian paused his apple-peeling. "The NRI? That's impressive. But they don't just hand out positions. It takes months, years of applications."

"Dr. Drake contacted me directly," she explained, trying to keep her voice steady. "He made an exception."

"Oh, Alicia, that' s wonderful!" Ava chirped, her smile a little too bright. "We should all go out to celebrate when we get back from Hawaii!"

She was deliberately missing the point, steering the conversation back to her, back to their plans that didn't include Alicia.

"That's the thing," Alicia pressed on, her desperation growing. "I'm leaving tomorrow. For fifteen years."

The room fell silent.

Julian put the knife and apple down. Dante stared at her, his mouth slightly open.

"Fifteen years?" Julian's voice was flat, incredulous. "What are you talking about? What kind of project takes fifteen years?"

"It's classified," she said.

Dante let out a short, harsh laugh. "Classified? What is this, a spy movie? You're being ridiculous. You're just doing this for attention because you're mad about the money."

"This has nothing to do with the money anymore," Alicia said, the exhaustion of it all weighing on her. "This is my life. My career."

"So you're just going to abandon your family?" Dante's voice rose. "After everything we've been through? You're just going to walk out?"

"You told me to get out," Alicia reminded him softly. "You said if I couldn't be compassionate, I shouldn't be here."

Dante' s face went pale, then flushed with renewed anger. "I didn't mean for fifteen years!"

"It doesn't matter what you meant. It's what you said," Alicia replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "I' m not abandoning you. I' m starting my own life. The one you took from me."

The air crackled with tension. Ava looked between the three of them, a flicker of panic in her eyes. This was not going according to her plan.

"So where will you live?" Julian asked, his tone shifting back to pragmatic CEO mode. "You can't just up and leave."

"The Institute provides housing," Alicia said.

"And your room here?" Dante challenged. "What are we supposed to do with it? Just leave it empty for fifteen years?"

Ava saw her opening. "She doesn't want it anymore," she said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. "She's leaving us. I... I guess I can just stay in the guest room forever."

The implication hung in the air: Alicia was throwing away her home, her family, and Ava, the poor orphan, would be relegated to a temporary space.

A wave of utter weariness washed over Alicia. She was done fighting.

"Ava can have my room," she said, the words tasting like ash. "I'll be out by tonight. It's better this way. It has a better view, and it's bigger than the guest room."

Julian and Dante stared at her, stunned into silence. They had expected her to fight, to argue, to demand her space back. They had not expected this calm, rational surrender.

It unnerved them.

"You see?" Dante said, though his voice lacked its earlier conviction. "She's just trying to make us feel guilty. It's a classic Alicia move."

But even he didn't seem to believe it.

Alicia looked at their confused, angry faces. They didn't understand. They couldn't see the chasm that had opened between them, a gap that could no longer be bridged.

They still thought this was a childish squabble.

They had no idea that she was performing an amputation, cutting away a part of herself that had become gangrenous.

"I have to go pack," she said, turning to leave.

"Alicia, wait," Julian called out, a strange note of uncertainty in his voice.

She paused at the door but didn't turn around.

"Don't do anything stupid," he said. It wasn't an apology. It wasn't a plea. It was a command, born of habit.

She said nothing. She simply walked out of the room, leaving her brothers in a silence that was heavier and more uncomfortable than before.

As she walked down the sterile hospital corridor, she remembered the night their parents died. Julian had held her tight, his own grief a palpable thing, and whispered, "I'll always take care of you, Lissy. I promise." Dante had sat with her all night, not saying a word, just being a solid, comforting presence as she cried.

Promises.

They were just words. Breath in the air that dissipated, leaving nothing behind.

Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. She had no tears left.

Back at the house, she moved through her room with a cold efficiency. She packed textbooks, research notes, a few changes of clothes, and a single framed photo of her parents.

Everything else-the trinkets from childhood, the gifts from her brothers, the memories-she left behind.

Mrs. Gable, their housekeeper of twenty years, watched from the doorway, her face etched with disapproval.

"They have no right, Miss Alicia," she said, her voice a low rumble of indignation. "Giving away your school money. And for that one."

She jerked her head in the general direction of the absent Ava.

"It's alright, Martha," Alicia said calmly. "I'm leaving. They won't have to worry about me anymore."

Mrs. Gable' s eyes widened. "Leaving? For good?"

Alicia nodded, pulling the zipper on her suitcase closed. "For good."

Just as she was about to lift the heavy case, a shadow fell across the doorway.

Julian stood there, his face unreadable. He had come home from the hospital.

And he had not come alone.