Chapter 3

Colin's POV

When I finally rushed to the hospital, I found Mom slumped over a stretcher in the hallway, quietly weeping.

I ran to her side and saw a massive gash on Dad's head. The wound had been given basic treatment, but it was still bleeding.

"W-Where is the doctor? Dad's still bleeding. Why isn't anyone helping him?"

Mom hesitated for a long time before she finally spoke. "There's only one ER doctor on duty, and there was only one temporary bed left. Teresa told him to… to treat the other person first."

My head pounded. I stood up just as the door to the room behind me opened.

Owen was hugging Teresa, his eyes bloodshot and his voice raw. "Teresa, thank you. If you hadn't left Colin's parents to come help me, I really wouldn't have known what to do."

She patted his back and comforted him softly. "Your parents are my parents. No need to thank me. Stop crying. Your eyes are all swollen."

Losing all self-control, I lunged forward and grabbed Teresa by the wrist. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably. "Teresa, you promised you'd take care of my parents. Is this what you meant?"

Teresa frowned.

Owen immediately stepped between us, pushing me back to shield her. He looked at me with a subtle gleam of provocation in his eyes.

"Colin, my mom sprained her ankle," he said. "Teresa was worried it might cause permanent damage, so she had the doctor treat my mom first.

"If you're angry, hit me all you want! Don't blame Teresa. She was just so worried about my mom that she didn't notice your dad's clothes got caught in the car door. That's how he got dragged and injured."

Teresa stepped past Owen to put him behind her. When she looked at me, her gaze was icy. "Colin, I'll let it go this time since you're worried about your dad. But you need to be reasonable. Don't act like some hotheaded country thug.

"The doctor examined your dad's wound and said it was just a superficial injury. That's why I left him out here. But Owen's mom's ankle couldn't wait. If it affects the bone, it's a lifelong issue."

Behind me, Dad's weak voice called out, "Colin… I'm fine. Don't pick a fight with Teresa because of me. We country folks are tough. We're not delicate like city people."

Teresa's expression softened slightly. She took a couple of steps toward me and reached out to hug me. "See? Even your dad says it's no big deal. He's fine. Stop making such a huge fuss. Once the sun comes up, I'll find someone to get him a proper room."

I took a step back, avoiding her.

Her expression darkened, but I ignored her. I took out my phone and arranged to have Dad transferred to another hospital.

I stayed by my parents' side all night.

The next day, I went back to the apartment to pack our things.

When I opened the door, the living room was filled with laughter and a pungent, sour smell.

The woman who had just yesterday claimed her rhinitis couldn't handle strong odors was now smiling as she used her fork to pick up a piece of pickled cucumber Owen's parents had brought.

Near the living room trash can lay two familiar-looking bundles. They were the bags my parents had carried on their backs when they arrived.

I looked at Teresa and asked, "What's this?"