Caleb barely remembered the drive home. His hands had trembled on the steering wheel, his heart racing as Elyra’s body remained limp in the passenger seat. Her breaths were shallow, her skin deathly pale in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

"Elyra, stay with me," he pleaded, his voice thick with fear. "Just hold on a little longer."

She didn’t respond.

The moment they arrived, Caleb carried her inside, his mind barely registering anything except getting her to safety. He moved through the hallways like a ghost, his footsteps urgent, his grip on her too tight, as if holding her closer would stop her from slipping away.

His mother appeared in the hallway, startled by the sudden commotion. She gasped at the sight of Elyra in his arms, her face paling. "What happened?"

Caleb ignored her, pushing past and heading straight for Elyra’s room. He placed her down gently on the bed, brushing her damp hair from her face.

"Elyra, wake up," he begged. "Please."

She stirred slightly, her eyelashes fluttering but not opening fully. She was too weak to even lift her head.

Their mother hesitated at the doorway, gripping the frame tightly. Caleb barely looked at her, his entire focus on Elyra.

"I’ll get her some water," their mother murmured.

Caleb expected her to leave and never return. That’s what she had always done. She had spent years ignoring Elyra’s suffering, looking the other way while their father turned their sister into nothing more than a shadow of who she used to be.

But this time, she came back.

She carried a glass of water in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. Caleb watched in stunned silence as she sat on the edge of the bed, her movements hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to do this.

"Elyra, sweetheart," she whispered, brushing Elyra’s forehead with the cloth. "Can you drink some water?"

Caleb blinked.

Sweetheart?

The word sounded so foreign coming from her lips, as if she had forgotten how to use it.

Elyra barely moved, her lips parting slightly but not making a sound.

Their mother’s hands trembled as she lifted the glass to Elyra’s lips, carefully tilting it so the water trickled down her throat. She was gentle, more gentle than Caleb had ever seen her be before.

A lump formed in his throat.

For years, he had resented his mother just as much as he had resented their father. She had let it happen. She had watched and done nothing.

But now, for the first time, she was trying.

Their father’s voice suddenly cut through the moment, sharp and cold.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Their mother flinched, the glass shaking slightly in her grip. Caleb’s jaw clenched as he turned to see their father standing in the doorway, his expression twisted with anger.

"She needs rest," their mother said firmly, though her voice wavered. "She collapsed outside. I’m taking care of her."

Their father scoffed. "Taking care of her?" He let out a bitter laugh. "Since when do you care?"

Their mother lowered the glass, but she didn’t back down. "Since I realized that I failed her."

Caleb’s breath caught in his throat.

Their father stepped forward. "Don’t start with this nonsense. That girl—"

"Her name is Elyra," Caleb snapped, cutting him off.

Their father shot him a glare. "I know her name."

"Then use it," Caleb hissed. "Stop acting like she’s nothing. She’s your daughter."

His father’s lip curled in irritation. "She’s the reason our family fell apart."

"No," his mother whispered, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "We are."

For the first time, their father faltered.

"We turned our backs on her," she continued, her voice breaking. "We let our grief consume us, and instead of holding onto what we still had, we destroyed her. And I—" She let out a soft sob, wiping at her eyes. "I let it happen."

Her hands, the same hands that had once ignored Elyra’s cries, now held her daughter’s frail body as if trying to make up for every moment she had lost.

Caleb watched in silence, his chest aching.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But it was something.

Their father’s expression hardened, but he didn’t say anything. After a moment, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the distance.

Caleb let out a shaky breath, but his attention quickly returned to Elyra.

Her lips parted slightly. A faint whisper escaped, barely audible.

"Mom?"

Their mother choked on a sob. "I’m here, sweetheart," she said, brushing Elyra’s hair back gently. "I’m here."

But Elyra was too weak to say anything else. Her body gave in to exhaustion, her breathing soft and slow.

Their mother held onto her hand tightly, as if afraid to let go again.

Caleb sat on the other side of the bed, watching his mother, watching Elyra.

For the first time, she wasn’t alone.

But was it too late? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...