The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room hummed with a clinical, unyielding vibration.
Hours had bled into one another, marked only by the rhythmic squeak of nurse's shoes on linoleum.
In the corner, Sunny sat with her head bowed, her lips moving in a frantic, soundless rhythm as she bartered with God for Sofia's life.
The silence was shattered when Ariana turned, her eyes burning with a localized fire.
"You caused this," she spat, her voice a serrated blade directed at Melissa.
"The only thing you've ever done is bring ruin to this family."
"I'm sorry," Melissa whispered, her voice fragile.
"You're sorry? You murdered Irene," Ariana countered, her volume rising with her vitriol.
"It wasn't me! I swear!" Melissa's plea hung in the air, desperate and unmoored, finding no purchase in the stony faces around her.
"Right," Ariana mocked, her lip curling. "I suppose she just tripped and fell into the freezer by accident."
Melissa bit her tongue so hard the metallic tang of blood flooded her mouth—a bitter taste for a bitter moment.
"I will never forgive you for this," Ariana continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous low.
"You're nothing but a monster. I don't want you anywhere near baby bear again."
"You can't say that," Sunny intervened, finally looking up from her prayers.
"She has the right to be with Sofia—with baby bear—just like the rest of us."
"A monster?" Melissa breathed the word to herself, the label settling into her skin like a stain.
"After putting her in this state?" Ariana gestured toward the ICU doors.
"After all the trouble you've invited? Sofia is in there fighting for her life because of you."
"This has nothing to do with Melissa," Sunny insisted, stepping between them. "This is Vassago. All of it."
"It wouldn't be Vassago if she hadn't killed Irene," Ariana snapped back.
"You know as well as I do," Sunny countered, "he would have come for Sofia regardless. Willow fled with us, and he doesn't let things go."
"Melissa has murdered people," Ariana said, her gaze cold.
"The blood of innocents rests on her hands. That is a weight I cannot carry right now."
Melissa looked Ariana in the eye, her spine stiffening.
"Say it to my face. Say you want me to leave, and I'll go."
"No," Sunny said firmly. "You are not leaving this hospital."
"Leave," Ariana overruled, her voice trembling with a mixture of grief and rage.
"All you cause is pain and heartbreak. So just leave!"
Melissa nodded once, a sharp, jerky movement, and began to back away into the shadows of the hallway.
"No one is going anywhere," Abuela's voice rang out, authoritative and weary.
"How can you be so selfish? What would you do if Sofia wakes up and asks for Papa bear?"
"She's the reason Sofia is in this mess!" Ariana cried out.
Abuela turned a piercing look on everyone present.
"So? Who among us hasn't done terrible things to protect the ones we love? Nobody in this room is a saint."
She turned to Melissa, her expression softening into a sad, knowing smile.
"Stay. Sofia would want to see you."
"I... I want to go to the store. Just to grab a carton of milk," Melissa said, her smile mirroring Abuela's bitterness.
"No. I won't let you run," Sunny said.
"It's just milk, Sunny," Antonio said, his voice a low rumble from the doorway where he'd been watching.
"Why do you always run when things get tough?" Sunny asked Melissa, her eyes searching. "When we need you most?"
"It's my fault," Melissa whispered, looking at the floor.
"Ariana is right. Baby is in this mess because of me. I just need fresh air. I need to clear my head."
"Promise you won't be long," Sunny said, sensing the futility of the argument.
"I'll be back before she wakes up," Melissa promised.
Sunny pulled her into a brief, tight hug. Melissa nodded to Abuela and walked toward the exit, ignoring the icy glare Ariana sent her way.
She hadn't made it to the parking lot before she heard the heavy footfalls behind her.
Antonio was a shadow she couldn't shake.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.
Melissa stopped, her hand on the heavy glass door.
"Home," she replied cautiously.
"Why don't I drop you off?"
Melissa pushed through the door and stepped into the cool night air.
"No. I can walk."
Antonio's hand clamped around her arm, firm and unyielding.
"That wasn't a request. Get in the fucking car."
The drive to his house was suffocatingly quiet.
When the engine finally died, Melissa climbed out, her movements heavy with exhaustion.
"Sit. I'll be right back," Antonio commanded, heading upstairs without waiting for an answer.
Melissa sat on the edge of the sofa, watching the grandfather clock in the hall.
The ticking felt like a countdown. Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
"Melissa," the voice on the other end said.
"Audrey," Melissa answered.
"I heard what happened. That bastard has finally crossed the line," Audrey said, her voice crackling with fury.
"Pushing Willow to her death wasn't enough. Now he's coming after my niece."
"How did you know?" Melissa asked, her brow furrowing.
"Ariana called me. She told me everything. Vassago is finished."
"None of this would have happened if you hadn't murdered Irene," Melissa said.
"That woman had it coming," Audrey snapped.
"She tormented Willow for years. She earned that cold ending."
"Everyone thinks I did it," Melissa said. "Vassago blames me. Ariana blames me."
"Let them think what they want. I will handle Vassago myself. You stand down, Melissa. Do you understand?"
Melissa ruffled her hair, a nervous habit. "Am I clear?" Audrey pressed.
"Crystal," Melissa replied, her teeth gritted.
"I have to go," Audrey said, and the line went dead.
"Who was that?"
Melissa jumped. Antonio was standing at the foot of the stairs, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"No one important," she replied, her heart hammering.
"Go freshen up," Antonio said, his voice casual—too casual.
It was the tone of a man who had heard every word and was deciding what to do with the information.
"I don't want to."
"You need to wash the hospital off you and get some rest."
"I'll just go home, then," Melissa said, standing and heading for the door.
Antonio was faster. He moved with a predator's grace, catching her and pulling her back so sharply she fell onto the cushions of the couch.
"Don't make me do things we'd both regret," he growled, leaning over her.
"You're going to shower here, and we're going to stay right here. A sleepover. How does that sound?"
Melissa stared up at him, her defiance warring with a strange, dark pull. Her eyes drifted from his hardened gaze to the intricate tattoos spiraling up his neck.
Slowly, she reached out, her fingertips trailing across the inked skin.
Antonio's jaw set, and he bit his lip, his breathing hitching as her touch lingered.
"Fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I won't go anywhere."
"Good girl," he murmured.