The courtyard was completely quiet now.

The cooling fans on the microgrid whirred, blowing a warm, dry breeze across the asphalt.

My mother looked down at the silver cardholder on the table.

Her hands remained clasped, but her knuckles were white.

She looked at Derek, then slowly turned her gaze to me.

There was no anger left in her eyes, only a cold, hollow distance.

She realized she had no leverage left.

The threats that had kept us quiet for decades had lost their power.

My father shifted his weight, looking at her for some kind of cue.

She did not look back at him.

“We are leaving,” she said simply.

She turned on her heel and walked toward the heavy iron gates of the engineering complex.

Her designer shoes clicked sharply against the pavement.

My father hesitated, looking at Derek with a mixture of sadness and confusion.

“Dad,” Derek said softly.

My father shook his head, turned around, and followed her out without another word.

The heavy iron gate clicked shut behind them.

I let out a long breath, my shoulders dropping.