Hailee's POV
One month later.
The nights had only grown heavier. I tried to rest, but sleep never came easy. When I closed my eyes, all I heard were their voices, their anger, and their pain. Nathan's last words—I hate you—still burned through me like a fire I couldn't put out.
I told myself I did the right thing, that this was the only way to protect them. But the weight of it suffocates me every day, until even standing felt like a battle.
I had grown tired. My body ached, my steps dragged, and no matter how much I forced myself to eat, the food sat heavy and strange in my stomach. Some mornings I barely made it out of bed.
The door creaked open, and Mother walked in. Her eyes swept over me where I sat slumped on the edge of my bed, my hair unbrushed, my skin pale.
"Hailee," she said softly, but there was worry in her voice. She stepped closer, studying me with sharp eyes. "You don't look well."
I forced a small smile. "I'm fine."
