Miles entered the truck, urg­ing Felix to dri­ve off, dis­miss­ing any con­cerns about San­dro’s absence with cer­tain­ty. Felix, con­cerned yet hes­i­tat­ing to pry, respect­ed Miles’s deci­sion. As they drove away from the house, Miles grap­pled with unset­tling thoughts, chid­ing him­self for his ear­li­er fears about Felix’s well-being, which felt irra­tional now.

In the pas­sen­ger seat, Miles was remind­ed of Dizzy, whose tear-stained, disheveled appear­ance made him ques­tion how any father could fail to love her. The unwel­come mem­o­ry of her peer­ing through the door peep­hole stung him deeply, ignit­ing a fierce hatred for their father. When Dizzy whis­pered to Miles about San­dro want­i­ng to stay, he felt shock—a sib­ling con­nec­tion he did­n’t expect. Their shared sor­row was pal­pa­ble; Dizzy empathized with his sad­ness, an ache that loomed larg­er as they drove towards the hos­pi­tal, their joy over a new half-sis­ter over­shad­owed by despair.

Miles’s bit­ter­ness towards their father fad­ed, giv­ing way to con­fu­sion. He recalled snap­shots of their dad, an ide­al­ized fig­ure in pho­tographs, con­trast­ing sharply with his cur­rent reality—the door uncer­e­mo­ni­ous­ly closed on them. He wres­tled with mixed emo­tions: a deep-seat­ed dis­dain for a father who dis­ap­point­ed them, yet an inex­plic­a­ble urge to under­stand him. The con­flict­ing feel­ings left Miles in tur­moil, long­ing for con­nec­tion while feel­ing trapped in mem­o­ries.

As they approached the high­way, a fresh pang of anguish hit him. He felt phys­i­cal­ly out of sorts, as if his body had sud­den­ly grown dis­pro­por­tion­ate and awk­ward. Dizzy moved away as he fid­get­ed rest­less­ly in his seat, over­whelmed by the chaos inside him. At that moment, dri­ven by a sud­den clar­i­ty of pur­pose, Miles real­ized their course must change. “So sor­ry, Felix, but we need to go back,” he declared, resolved to con­front the tur­moil that await­ed him.