The hospital was not a friendly place to be, especially for a person who had been there before. Fallon slept for 36 hours after the ambulance rushed her into care, partially because of her exhaustion and partially because of the drugs the doctor gave her to ease her shock and pain. It took several tries before her eyes opened, and a few minutes after that for the blurry haze to clear. As much as she blinked, the edges of objects refused to sharpen into focus.

Bright light bleached the room. The walls, TV stand, hanging curtain -- all of it glowed in varying shades of white. Even the pale blue of the bedsheets seemed lighter. There was a nightstand beside her with a pitcher of water and a short pastel pink cup. Fallon dragged her tongue over the inside of her mouth. God, she needed water.

“Fallon?”

She knew the voice before she turned her head. “Mom,” she said, furrowing her brow. “You came?” Mrs. Novette-Naim looked strained and weepy. Tears sprang to her eyes immediately. She darted from the chair and grasped her daughter’s hand, shaking. Fallon fought to gather her senses. “Mom, it’s okay. I’m okay.” Her mother didn’t seem convinced.

When she raised her head, Mrs. Novette-Naim looked redder than before. Her glasses gathered water at the bottom edge, and she pulled them off, tucking them into the pocket of her jacket. “Of course I came,” she said, the words wet and broken. “You’re my baby. You’re my...” Another sob broke her. “I’m sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t cry when you woke up. I made myself promise.” Her chin wrinkled, and she leaned forward, draping her arms over her daughter. “I told myself I would never have to see you in a bed like this again. Not until the day you gave me my first grandchild.” She pulled Fallon tighter, and the girl winced at the sensation of the IV moving in her vein.

Grandchildren? Fallon didn’t see it in her future. Biologically, she preferred a gender that would require extra bells and whistles to conceive. A lot of them. And Fallon never really saw herself as a mother, let alone wanting to be pregnant. She had tried to tell her mother this before, and it had turned out disastrous. It was certainly not the kind of conversation to have now. Instead, Fallon lifted a hand and rested it on her mother’s head. Even in the hospital bed, she was being the strong one.

Fallon swallowed. “Mom...” Mrs. Novette-Naim popped her head up, eyes wide and waiting. “Could you get me some water?” Her mother was moving in an instant, happy to do anything that she could for her injured daughter.

A collapsable side table hung at the side of Fallon’s bed. Mrs. Novette-Naim set it up, careful not to bump her daughter’s elbow. She placed the pink cup in the center and tilted the clear jug of water over it. “I spoke to your father, and we think we can get all your things packed and shipped in two days,” she said, wiping at the tears that still hung in her eyes. “The doctor wants to keep you one more day to do some tests on your memory. The police need to take an official statement from you. Whenever you feel up to it, I’ll go get the doctor, but there’s no rush.” The water jug was moved back to the nightstand.

Fallon reached for the cup, but did not lift it. “Why are... what are you packing my things for?” Her visions grew clearer with each passing moment, but everything still looked as if she were viewing it through a layer of ice.

Mrs. Novette-Naim grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Well, angel,” she said, rubbing the back of it. “Once you’re all better, we’re going to bring you home. You and I will fly back together. Dad has even talked to the local girls’ school in the countryside. We could even bring Taillevent, if you wanted.” Her smile was so hopeful, so loving, that it broke Fallon’s heart.

Magenta eyes glanced away. Her hand went limp in her mother’s. “I don’t want to go back to France,” she said, voice shaky. “I don’t.”

“Oh, angel, no--”

“I’m serious, Mom. I’m... happy.” Mrs. Novette-Naim shook her head. Fallon persisted. “I’m happy here. I feel balanced.”

A scoff bit in Mrs. Novette-Naim’s throat. “Fallon, it is not a safe place. Are you listening to me? This is the second time you have been seriously injured and sent to the hospital in three months.” Her mother stepped forward, but Fallon pulled her hand away. She took a sip from the water cup. “Angel, I love you. I will not risk your life again. We’re getting out of here. As soon as possible.”

Fallon’s arms were still sore, but she folded them across her chest. Why was she being punished? Wasn’t getting the s**t kicked out of her enough? Her mother didn’t understand, never had. Destiny City had brought Fallon horrors, sure, but it had brought her friends too. It had brought her a peace she had never known. If she went back to France, there was no telling what would happen, how she might regress. “It is my life,” she said, gritting her teeth.

The tears in her mother’s eyes dried, her mouth turning down in frustration. “You are sixteen. You are a minor. I get to make this decision, Fallon. So I don’t care what you have to say.” The tone was sharp, biting. It was the side of her mother that Fallon was most used to, the side that told her to chin up and just deal with her OCD, the side that lied about how much she fought with Mr. Novette-Naim.

Anger rose quickly in Fallon. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. I do. Haven’t I earned the right to make my own goddamn decisions!” Her hands clenched into fists. If only her mother had stayed in France, Fallon could have gotten through this on her own. Why did she bother to fly over?

“Do not take the Lord’s name in vain, Fallon Iva.” Her mother held out a flat hand to silence her. “I will forgive that because of your injuries. You are not being yourself.”

“Maybe I AM being myself. Did you consider that? Maybe---” A fit of coughing broke her frenzied words. Fallon clutched her chest, spilling water from her cup onto the hospital gown. Her mother grabbed the cup and put it on the table, gripping Fallon’s shoulders. She whispered soothing words until her daughter caught her breath.

“This is not a good place for you. You will be happier at home with me and--”

“And Dad?” Fallon’s voice was hoarse, but she fought to keep speaking. “Why do you think I left France in the first place? If I go back to France, if I live under that roof with the two of you, I will not be happy. I will be anxious. I will have problems in school again.” She shot her mother a look. Mrs. Novette-Naim understood what that meant. Fallon’s OCD had gotten her into trouble at school since she started attending as a kid. Her parents' constant fighting only made it worse.

Mrs. Novette-Naim wilted. “I love you,” she said, propping a hand on her hip. “But you will be better off--”

“I will be better off here.” Tears filled her eyes. “If you try to take me back with you, I will run away. I cannot listen to the two of you. You think I don’t hear you. I hear everything.” Fallon looked away. Mrs. Novette-Naim did too. She didn’t know her daughter knew about the fighting. She thought they hid it well. The news struck her hard, and she had never been the kind of person who recovered gracefully.

For a moment, Fallon almost felt guilty. Her parents’ constant fighting was certainly a reason for her desire to stay in Destiny City, but it wasn’t the only one. With all the insanity around her, she actually felt more sane inside. And that was what mattered. Fallon loved her parents, but she loved herself first. If she went back to France and all the compulsions came back, Fallon did not know if she would recover.

Her mother looked crushed beside the bedside. She began to cry again. Shame burned across her features. Her daughter knew, had known, all along the thing that she had been trying to keep a secret. Neither said anything for a while. Then Mrs. Novette-Naim moved toward the door. “I’ll get the nurse to find you a new gown.” Her hand touched the doorknob. “And I’ll call your father to let him know you are okay. He wanted to come, but he had to work.” She turned it, but paused, glancing back to her daughter. “We will talk about this later.” The door clicked shut behind her, and Fallon was left alone.

Her heart raced, palms sweating. The alley with Wolframite had been terrifying, but so was this conversation with her mother. If she made her leave Destiny City, would Fallon really have the strength to run away? And what about all her new friends? What about Audrey and Calintha and Imogen and everyone? The thought was sobering, and it brought another wave of pain to the already injured girl. Fallon let herself cry, only stopping when the nurse came to help her change into a dry gown.

Mrs. Novette-Naim might want Fallon to return to France, but Fallon would not. No matter what it took, she would not leave this place, or Dr. Price. Destiny City was where she found her sanity and balance, even if it put her in the hospital bed too. Her mother would have to understand that. She would have no other choice.