I zipped the suitcase in the quiet of that little back bedroom, and my hands were steadier than they had any right to be. Through the thin wall I could hear the party trying to restart itself, someone laughing too loud, the speaker thumping again, Carla telling everyone it was fine, it was fine, Nadia was just being dramatic. But it wasn’t fine, and for the first time in my life I let that be true out loud. I walked into the living room with the bag over my shoulder and Mom’s medication pouch pressed to my chest, because I was not leaving that behind for anyone.<\/p>\n
Dad saw the suitcase first. His face did something I had never seen it do. It cracked. “Nadia, where are you going?” he asked, and the question came out small. Carla appeared in the doorway behind him, drink still in hand, and she actually smiled, certain I would fold like I always did. “She’ll be back in an hour,” she told the room. I looked at her, then at Mom, then set the medication pouch gently on the table and said the sentence that changed everything.<\/p>\n
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