The hospital waiting room smelled like desperation and antiseptic. I'd been sitting in the same uncomfortable chair for three hours, my back aching, while Alex and Austin played games on my phone in the corner. Michael had gone to get coffee twenty minutes ago and hadn't returned.

My life had become this strange dance—navigating between my independence and the gravitational pull of the Walton family. Never in a million years did I imagine I'd be here, waiting for news about Elizabeth's condition.

A nurse pushed through the double doors. "Family of Elizabeth Walton?"

I stood, smoothing my skirt. Part of me wanted to correct her—I wasn't family, not anymore—but the...