Hours upon hours later, they finally let me leave the hospital. Next time, I'd be less cooperative; the entire thing left me with zero answers and, I was sure, a giant bill. Hopefully, my folks still had me on some type of insurance. My luck, they'd kicked me off, which, of course, I completely deserved.

Was there even such a thing as insurance across borders? Did that even work when they were in Mexico, living the empty-nest retirement life? Had Kat and I really been that much of a burden?

"I'll get my car," Phillip said, his voice grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

My stomach clenched. I had broken up with him. It was clear. Now, he pretended like nothing was wrong? Classic Phillip, rewriting reality to suit his needs.

Why had Kat called him? If I just spilled the truth, that he had been verbally abusive to me, getting worse and worse, and that it had escalated to physical abuse… She would have never let him near me. But the words stuck in my throat, trapped behind over a year of conditioning and fear.

I should tell her, but still didn't want her to see me as her weak little sister. I wasn't weak. I was just… lost.

And damn, right now Phillip's green soul was calling my name. The flashing like that of a dying light bulb that I couldn't stop staring at. It was hypnotic, alluring in a way that made my skin crawl.

"I have the weekend off," Kat said, oblivious to the tension crackling between Phillip and me. "The doc said someone should keep a close eye on her. I thought she'd stay at my apartment until Monday."

"But her things are at my place," Phillip argued, his tone deceptively reasonable. "She'll be more comfortable there."

"I'm right here, guys," I said, prying my eyes off of Phillip's glow. "I'm going to Kat's. After everything, I could really use my sister. I hope you understand." And I don't know why I wasn't blunter, probably because I didn't want to create a scene, but I was already falling back into old patterns, making excuses for my decision.

Phillip wasn't happy. The old Kal would know that meant I'd pay for this later. But I knew there wouldn't be a later. I was never going back to his place. Not after tonight. Not after dying and coming back with the ability to see souls. Talk about a wake-up call.

And maybe he would have thrown a fit right there, right then, if we weren't surrounded by medical personnel.

"I'll get my car," Kat said. "Wait here."

As Kat's footsteps faded down the hallway, I felt the air around me grow thick with tension. Phillip's green aura pulsed even more intensely, more mesmerizing, almost blinding in its sickly radiance. I tried to look away, but it was like a gruesome accident – impossible to ignore.

"We need to talk," Phillip growled, his voice low and menacing. Before I could protest, his hand clamped around my upper arm, fingers digging into my flesh. "Now."

He half-dragged me down the corridor, away from the bustle of the emergency room. My heart raced, a mix of fear and anger coursing through my veins. We ended up in a quiet corner of the hospital, near a bay of elevators that seemed rarely used. Medical equipment lined the walls – crash carts, IV stands, and bulky machines I couldn't name.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Let go of me," I hissed, yanking my arm free. The old familiar fear tried to creep in, but something else rose to meet it – a newfound strength, born from my brush with death and whatever strange power now coursed through me.

This new version of Kal didn't take any shit—from anyone. Especially not from green-souled abusive exes.

Phillip's face contorted with rage, his green aura flaring like a toxic supernova. "You're coming home with me," he spat. "I don't know what game you're playing, but it ends now. You need me, Kal. You're nothing without me."

The words hit me like a physical blow, but instead of crumpling, I felt something inside me harden. "No," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Phillip. We're done."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed in the empty hallway. "Done? You don't get to decide that. You think you can survive on your own? You're pathetic, Kal. A failure. Who else would put up with you?" He huffed. "I mean your parents took off as soon as they legally could."

Each insult was like a knife, cutting deep into old wounds. But as I stood there, watching his aura pulse and writhe, I realized something. These were just words. They only had power if I let them.

And I had my own words I could use.

I spit his insults back, realizing the truth behind every sentence. "You're only demanding this of me because you know that nobody else would put up with you, Phillip. You can't survive on your own. You're pathetic. A failure. Who else would put up with you?"

His eyes sprang open wide, but I wasn't done. I was on a roll, and damn if it didn't feel good.

"This is my second chance," I said, more to myself than to Phillip. "I almost died earlier today, and I'm not going to waste this opportunity by letting you or anyone else abuse me anymore."

Phillip's eyes began to narrow, dangerously. "Abuse? You ungrateful bitch. I gave you everything!"

He took a step toward me, his hand raised. I flinched instinctively, but stood my ground.

"You gave me nothing but pain and self-doubt," I retorted. "But that's over now. I don't need you, Phillip. I never did. I'm only twenty-two years old. I have my entire life ahead of me."

His face twisted into an ugly mask of fury. "You'll regret this," he snarled, lunging forward.

I stumbled backward, my hip bumping against one of the machines lining the wall. Phillip's hands reached for me, his green aura now flashing so fast I couldn't count as fast as it pulsed. But as he moved, his foot caught on the wheel of an IV stand. He stumbled, arms windmilling as he tried to regain his balance.

For the second time in the past twelve hours, the world seemed to slow. I watched, horrified, as Phillip crashed into a tall, imposing piece of medical equipment. A massive machine, with a sleek metal body towering over us both. The machine, studded with complicated-looking sensors and scanning apparatus, teetered from the impact.

For a moment, it looked like Phillip might steady himself, his hands grasping at the smooth surface of the machine. Then, with a groan of protesting metal, the entire apparatus began to topple. The heavy base, likely weighing hundreds of pounds, lifted off the ground as the top-heavy structure lost its balance.

"Phillip!" I cried out, reaching for him instinctively. But it was too late.

The equipment came down with a thunderous crash. The main body of the machine caught Phillip squarely on the head and upper body, while the heavy arm swung forcefully, striking his midsection. Sparks flew as parts shattered on impact and Phillip's body jolted, like he was hit by lightning.

The air filled with the acrid smell of burnt plastic and charred flesh, mingling with the metallic scent of blood that was beginning to pool around Phillip. The once pristine hospital floor was now littered with shards of plastic, bits of metal, and the scattered remains of what had been a state-of-the-art medical device, meant to save lives. Oh, the irony.

"Help!" I screamed, my voice echoing down the empty corridor.

I dropped to my knees beside Phillip, my hands hovering uselessly over his still form. Blood pooled beneath his head, and his chest barely moved. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and filled with pain.

"Somebody help!" I called again, but his green flashing light turned solid and began to swirl, seeming to leave his body.

I had seen something similar once before.

In my folk's rusty old minivan early this morning.

When I… died.