Mia’s POV

I left the door open just enough.

Not wide. Just a thin crack that let the voices from downstairs drift upward clearly enough for me to hear every word. I sat on the edge of my bed at first, arms folded, listening with the same detached irritation I always felt when Lily started talking about the past. The usual complaints. The same tired stories. I almost rolled my eyes when she began listing the years of “abuse.” As if any of it had been that serious.

Then Mom asked about the hospital.

I went still.

Lily’s voice was quieter when she answered, but I still heard every detail....