“She’s been unconscious for two days, but she didn’t die,” Natalie snapped, inspecting her fingernails. “She’s going to be fine. You always have to make everything about you, don’t you? Always the victim.”

I stood up, my chair screeching against the linoleum. “Get out. All of you. Get out of my room.”

Mom’s face crumbled into a mask of martyrdom. “Please, you can’t mean that. Natalie made a mistake. She didn’t mean any harm.”

“A mistake?” I was shaking now, vibrating with the force of my adrenaline. “This wasn’t a mistake. This was reckless. It was cruel. Get out!”

“You need to forgive your sister,” Dad said, his voice dropping into the commanding baritone he used to silence us as children. “Family forgives family. We do not hold grudges over accidents.”

“This wasn’t an accident!”

Dad moved faster than a man his age should. His hand flashed out, and the sound of the slap rang through the ICU like a gunshot.