Marceline’s mind was a tangled web of confusion and disbelief. The cold reality of the moment gnawed at her as she struggled to piece together Cross’s contradictory words.

“Cross, I thought you said you—” Her voice cracked with uncertainty, but before she could finish, he cut her off sharply.

“I said you can leave,” Cross interrupted, his tone clipped, no room for argument. The words hung between them like a challenge wrapped in ice.

For a brief second, a smile flickered across Marceline’s lips — a fragile, almost disbelieving curve. “Thank you so much,” she said, stepping out of the car, the cool hospital air immediately hitting her skin like...