The house was quiet, almost eerily so. The kind of silence that felt unnatural, like the air was holding its breath. Caleb sat in the dimly lit kitchen, his fingers gripping a mug of untouched coffee, his mind lost in a storm of emotions he couldn’t control.

Ten days.

That was all he had left with Elyra.

Every second that passed was another second he could never get back.

His gaze flickered toward the staircase, where just above, his sister lay in her room, slowly fading away. He felt sick. The kind of sick that had nothing to do with the body but everything to do with the soul.

How had he been so blind?

For years, he let their parents poison his mind against her. He believed the cruel words, the accusations, the blame. He let them break her down, and now, when she was at her weakest, he finally decided to care?

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that she had suffered alone.

It wasn’t fair that she never got to know what love felt like.

And it sure as hell wasn’t fair that he was only realizing all of this when it was already too late.

He slammed the mug down on the counter, his breath shaking as guilt and rage twisted inside him. He needed to do something—anything—to make up for what he had done.

He pushed himself up from the chair and walked toward Elyra’s room.

But before he could knock, he heard voices inside.

Their mother’s voice.

Curious—and more than a little uneasy—he pressed his ear against the door.

"You don’t look that sick."

Elyra’s response was quiet, barely above a whisper. "I don’t have the energy to argue with you, Mom."

There was a pause before their mother scoffed. "I don’t understand you, Elyra. You act like you’re some kind of tragic victim, but you’re not. You’re just weak. Always have been."

Caleb’s blood ran cold.

Inside, Elyra let out a breathless laugh, one so hollow that it sent a shiver down his spine. "Weak?" she echoed. "Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up every day knowing you’re dying? Knowing that no matter how hard you fight, your body is still tearing itself apart?"

Their mother didn’t respond.

Elyra’s voice cracked as she continued, "Do you know what it’s like to be hated by your own family? To be treated like you’re nothing? Do you know how many nights I stayed awake, wondering if I should just… end it myself?"

Caleb’s entire body tensed.

"You want to call me weak?" Elyra whispered. "Fine. But I survived longer than I should have. I kept fighting, even when I had no reason to. And I never—not once—asked you to love me, because I knew you never would."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then, their mother spoke, but this time, her voice wavered. "Elyra… I…"

But Elyra only shook her head. "Don’t. You don’t get to feel guilty now."

Caleb couldn’t take it anymore.

He shoved the door open, his eyes blazing with fury. "Get out."

Their mother turned, startled. "Caleb—"

"I said get out!" His voice was louder than he intended, but he didn’t care.

For a moment, their mother hesitated. Then, without another word, she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Elyra exhaled slowly, her body trembling from the effort of the confrontation. Caleb rushed to her side, kneeling by her bed.

"You shouldn’t waste your strength on her," he murmured.

Elyra gave him a small, tired smile. "I just… I just wanted her to know how much she’s hurt me. Before it’s too late."

Caleb swallowed hard. "Elyra, I—" He stopped himself, his throat tightening.

How could he even begin to apologize for everything?

Elyra studied him for a long moment before whispering, "I don’t hate you, Caleb."

His chest ached at her words.

How could she not hate him? After everything he had done—after all the times he stood by and let her suffer—how could she still look at him like this?

"Why?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Elyra hesitated, then gently placed her hand over his. "Because you’re the only one who sees me now."

His breath hitched.

She was right.

For the first time in years, he was finally seeing her—not as the person he had been taught to hate, but as the sister he had failed to love.

And it broke him.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her frail shoulder, his whole body shaking. "I’m so sorry," he choked out. "I’m so, so sorry, Elyra."

She didn’t say anything.

She just held his hand tighter.

And for the first time in her life, she felt like she wasn’t alone. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...