No one spoke.

No one moved.

The silence was heavy, suffocating. The room suddenly felt too small.

Lawson just stood staring at the space Camila had occupied. Her words echoed in his mind like a mantra: "Lawson had my kidney, and yet treated me like I was less than dirt."

The truth hit him hard. She was right. He had.

He never loved her. He was distant, only saw her as his father's pawn. He could still recall the look in her eyes, the hurt, the resentment as she stormed away that day, like she would shatter if she stayed a minute longer.

He should have stopped her. He should...