A week later

Leaving the hospital was not an easy task. Besides recovering physically, it took me several psychological studies, therapy, and telling part of the story to convince the doctors that I would not try again. So after a week hospitalized, I finally finished fixing the bag with the clothes Lucas sent me through my father. For the last time, I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. My dark circles are still there but, it is not that I have spent my days having fun in a spa, much less resting in a hotel.

"Daughter, are you ready?" my father exclaims from the room. I immediately get out of the bathroom.

He smiles at me, but his tired face makes me understand that what I did hurt him more than I could imagine. He did not move from this room while I was hospitalized. As I listened to him cry at night and say my mother's name, I realized that I didn't think of anything at all when I tried to kill myself. I didn't remember that I am my father's only thing in