Felix quickly stepped forward, his gaze sharp and full of blame, as though everything unfolding before us was squarely on my shoulders.
"This is what Lilian deserves. I built this RV from the ground up, and now she's the one who gets to keep it!" I yelled.
My words broke the last bit of control he was holding onto, and he struck me across the face.
A thick, oppressive silence settled over us.
The sting of his handprint seared into my skin. Tears blurred my vision as I pressed my palm to the throbbing ache. I stared at him, stunned, pain and grief twisting inside me like a knot of barbed wire.
"How could you hit me over her, Felix?" I asked, my voice trembling. "I'm the one who built this RV. What did she do? Or does playing the victim mean she gets to take whatever she wants?"
Felix's face hardened as if he'd never expected me to challenge him like this.
"When did you turn into this, Sylvie? What happened to the kind person I used to know? You've got everything—money, status, freedom. Is it really too much to let her have just this one thing?"
As he spoke, he carried Lilian in his arms, her face pale.
"Look at what you've done," he snapped. "The stress has made her worse. All she wanted was to feel what it's like to hold onto a dream before it's too late. Was that really too much to ask?"
My fingers tingled with rage. I sneered as I locked eyes with him.
"Yes, it was! You know exactly what this RV means to me, Felix. I spent night after night working on it, my hands covered in grease, tweaking the engine, fixing the chassis.
"It's basically a part of me. And you expect me to just hand it over? If Lilian wants a dream, she can make her own. You don't get to steal something and then act like the victim!"
I could let go of scum like Felix without a second thought, but my RV? Never. I built it with my own two hands.
Felix went still, his expression shifting as though he were staring at a stranger.
Finally, he said, "You're not the same anymore."
Then, he turned his back on me, carrying Lilian as he walked away.
A wave of rage surged through me, and my heart condition flared up. I crumpled to the ground, crying out in pain, "Felix… help me…"
He didn't even look back.
…
When I came to, I found myself in a hospital. Someone leaned in and wrapped me in a warm embrace.
"Let's head home, Sylvie."
It was Harold.
I closed my eyes, finally surrendering.
"Okay," I murmured.
It was true that hope could vanish in the blink of an eye.
