Chapter 128 You Need To Rest Mom had fallen asleep about thirty minutes ago, her breathing shallow but steady, her hand limp in mine. I should’ve been relieved that she was finally resting, but instead, there was this strange ache in my chest—the kind that tightens and makes breathing feel heavier than it should. I sat still, just watching her chest rise and fall. When the door creaked open behind me, I didn’t turn immediately. I figured it was a nurse or maybe Dean just checking in. But when a familiar voice, one I hadn’t heard in what now felt like lifetimes said my name, my entire body stiffened. “Sav?” I stopped moving. Then slowly turned around. Alyssa stood there in the doorway, framed by the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway. For a moment, I didn't know what to do. The breath was quite literally knocked out of me. “Alyssa?” I said, almost like I didn’t believe it. “Sav?” Her face softened with disbelief. “Is this really you?” I rubbed my clammy palms on my jeans, awkwardly trying to ground myself. “Uh, yeah... it’s me again. In the flesh.” I let out a weak laugh that didn’t quite land. She blinked rapidly, as if trying to decide whether to smile or cry. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” Her voice carried so much—surprise, relief, and something sharper underneath. She walked in fully, letting the door close behind her, and dropped a heavy tote bag on the table beside Mom’s bed. “I thought you hated all of us now. Including me and Emily.” The words hit like a slap. “Jesus Christ, no,” I blurted, standing up so fast the chair squealed against the floor. “I could never hate you or Em. Why would I hate little Emily? Come on, sis.” Alyssa didn’t answer right away. Her gaze was cautious, as if she wasn’t sure whether to trust my words or guard herself. Finally, she gave a small nod and turned toward her bag, pulling things out—wipes, a water bottle, and another one of Mom’s knitted beanies. Her movements were mechanical, like she needed something to keep her hands busy. “How’s Roman?” she asked without looking up. That caught me off guard, but I smiled faintly. “He’s good. Really good. I’ll let him know you asked after him.”She nodded, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. “I saw Dean outside. I was momentarily stunned that he let you come here with him.” I laughed softly, though it came out more as a breath than a sound. “Because he’s watching. Probably tracking my location or listening to my conversations.” I twisted the engagement ring on my finger, grinning. “Maybe this is a listening device.” Alyssa rolled her eyes, but then she actually laughed. “Come on, Sav. This isn’t a spy movie. And besides, he’s too much of a good guy to join the mafia.” I chuckled. “That’s true.” But then silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. The laughter died, and in its place came that awful awareness—the distance between us, the unspoken times. I studied her from the corner of my eye. She’d lost weight. Her once-glossy hair was pulled into a tired ponytail. Her face looked older, drawn, with dark shadows under her eyes. “How are you, Alyssa?” I finally asked. She froze, her hand halfway to the table. Her jaw clenched before she spoke. “Angry.” The honesty in that single word was like a stab in the gut. My throat tightened. “At me?” Her eyes snapped to mine. “Yes.” She didn’t even hesitate. “I’m angry at you. I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at Mom. I’m mad at Chlo. I’m mad at the world.” Each confession hit harder than the last. She turned fully toward me, her eyes shining with tears she refused to let fall. “Why would you do something like that, Sav? Why would you abandon your own family? You abandoned me.” Her voice cracked. “I’m your sister. Your defender. I’ve always been there for you. But I called you more times than I’ve ever called anyone else in my life and you never picked up. You ignored me. But Uncle Jace called, and you answered him. Why? Why him? Why not me? You shut me out!” Her voice grew louder with every word, until it echoed around the tiny hospital room. Mom stirred in her sleep, murmuring something inaudible. I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered, “Keep your voice down. Mom’s asleep.” Alyssa glared at me. “Don’t you dare tell me that. You have no right to ask me to be quiet, not after what you did.” I stepped back. The walls felt like they were closing in. She went on, voice trembling. “Do you know how much I’ve suffered? How much I’ve had to do since you and Chloe disappeared? You two left everything for me to handle! I’ve been taking care of our mother. And our father—” I cut her off sharply. “That man is not my father, Alyssa.” She blinked. “What?” “Your father, yes,” I said, my voice low but steady. “But not mine. And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.” Her expression twisted in confusion and hurt. Then her eyes landed on mom for a second. “What are you talking about? Do you have any idea what you’re implying—” “Girls?” Mom’s voice sliced through the tension. Weak but still very firm. Just like back then. Both our heads turned instantly. Mom had opened her eyes, blinking groggily. Her face looked paler than before. “Please,” she murmured. “Don’t fight each other. I beg you.”Alyssa’s eyes darted away, shame flickering across her face. I bit my lip, the sting of guilt crawling under my skin. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Then, louder, to Mom: “You need to rest. Don’t worry about us.” She gave a small, weary nod, but the lines of worry remained etched around her eyes. A thick silence followed. Alyssa sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a stray hair from her own face, while I stood by the window, staring out at the dimming sky. The sun was sinking, smearing gold and crimson over the horizon. The sight should have been peaceful. But I just felt restless. Finally, I said softly, “Mom… I think I should go. I don’t want to be on the road when it gets dark. Plus it looks like it's going to rain. Dean and I should get a head start.” Mom turned her head toward me, sadness clouding her eyes. “Will you come back to see me?” I nodded. “I’ll try my best.” Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Can you bring Roman next time? There’s something I need to ask him for.”That made me pause. “Ask him for?” But before she could answer, the door opened again—and every muscle in my body went rigid. Julius. The moment he stepped inside, the air changed. It was like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. He didn’t say anything, just stood there with that familiar look—mean and cold, his eyes moving between me, Mom, and Alyssa. I straightened, my hands curling into fists at my sides. I ignored him completely, leaning down to press a kiss to Mom’s head. “Bye, Mom. I’ll be praying for you.” Her hand trembled as she reached for mine. “Thank you, sweetheart.” I nodded and turned toward Alyssa. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. She didn’t respond. Didn’t even nod. She just stared at me—like I was someone she used to know but couldn’t recognize anymore. I forced myself to walk toward the door, even though my legs felt heavy. My fingers touched the handle, and something made me glance back. Julius was still staring at me. Glaring, actually. That same calculating expression. That same look that used to send chills down my spine when I was younger. I met his gaze with a glare of my own, then twisted the handle and walked out before the bitterness could swallow me whole. Dean shot to his feet the second he saw me come out the door. He looked nervous, jittery even, his hand running over the back of his neck. “Everything okay?” I asked, frowning. He nodded too quickly. “Yeah, yeah. All good.” But he was sweating. And the way he kept glancing at the door made me suspicious. “Dean.” He looked up. “What is it? Why are you being weird?” He shook his head again. “Nothing. Just— are you ready to go?” I studied him for a second longer, then sighed. “Yeah. Let’s go.” We walked down the hallway together, our footsteps echoing softly. The hospital lights buzzed faintly above us.When we reached the car, the air was cool, the kind that smelled faintly of rain. Dean opened my door, and I slid in, glancing back at the building one last time. The window of Mom’s room glowed dimly in the distance. For a fleeting second, I thought I saw a shadow move across it. Then I shook my head. Dean started the engine, and the car purred to life. As he pulled out of the parking lot, I pulled out my phone and typed a quick text to my fiancé. Usually, he replied within seconds. Always with some teasing message or a heart emoji. But this time, nothing. I stared at the screen, watching the message status hang on “delivered.” Then slowly turn to “read”. The seconds passed. Then minutes. Still no reply. A strange chill crept up my spine. I told myself it was fine—that maybe he was busy or asleep. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Dean said something beside me, something about the traffic or the route, but his voice sounded far away. My gaze stayed fixed on my phone screen, the reflection of my worried face staring back at me through the glass. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt utterly alone. But also, I felt something bad was coming. To us.