The house was silent except for the soft ticking of the clock on the living room wall. Caleb sat beside Elyra’s bed, watching her shallow breaths rise and fall. Their mother had fallen asleep in a chair across from him, her head tilted to the side, exhaustion finally catching up to her. It was strange, seeing her like this—staying by Elyra’s side, holding her hand, whispering apologies that Elyra was too weak to hear.

Caleb should have felt relieved. Maybe even comforted. But he wasn’t.

Because it was too late.

The damage had already been done, and no amount of regret could turn back time. Elyra had spent years suffering under the weight of their cruelty, and now, with only days left, their mother decided to care. What did it matter anymore?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of voices in the hallway. Low, hushed tones—one of them unmistakably belonging to his father.

Caleb frowned.

He stood slowly, stepping out of Elyra’s room. The voices grew clearer as he neared the kitchen. He paused just outside the doorway, his body tense.

"I don’t know what’s gotten into you," his father was saying, his voice sharp with frustration. "First Caleb, now you? Acting like she suddenly matters? It’s ridiculous."

Caleb’s hands curled into fists.

"She’s dying," their mother whispered, her voice trembling. "Don’t you understand? She doesn’t have much time left."

"Exactly," their father muttered. "Once she’s gone, things can go back to the way they were."

Caleb froze.

His breath caught in his throat, his entire body going numb.

Once she’s gone.

Go back to the way they were.

His father’s voice was calm. Too calm. As if he was discussing something as simple as fixing a broken piece of furniture.

Not his daughter’s death.

Not Elyra.

Caleb stepped forward, the chair beside his father screeching across the floor as he shoved it aside. His father turned, startled, but before he could react, Caleb grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

"Say that again," Caleb growled, his voice dangerously low.

His father’s eyes widened in shock. "What the hell are you doing?"

Caleb’s grip tightened. His heart pounded against his ribs, his anger burning hotter than it ever had before.

"You think her dying will fix everything?" His voice shook with rage. "You think that once she’s gone, you can just erase everything you did to her?"

"Caleb, let go," their mother said, panic in her voice as she tried to pull him back.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Not this time.

"All she ever wanted was to be loved by her own family," Caleb spat, his hands trembling. "And what did you do? You broke her. You made her feel like she was nothing. And now that she’s dying, you just want to pretend she never existed?"

His father gritted his teeth. "You don’t understand, Caleb. She ruined—"

Caleb slammed him against the wall again, harder this time. "She ruined what? Your perfect little family?" He let out a bitter laugh. "News flash, Dad—there was never anything perfect about this family. You killed it long before Elyra ever had the chance to."

His father shoved him back, his own anger boiling over now. "She took your brother from us!"

"And you took Elyra from me!" Caleb shouted back, his chest heaving. "You turned her life into hell, and I let you! I let you!"

The weight of his own guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave. He had been a coward. He had ignored Elyra’s pain for years, convincing himself that she deserved it because that’s what their father had always said.

But she never deserved any of it.

And now, she was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Their father glared at him, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don’t understand what it’s like to lose a child," he seethed.

Caleb let out a dry, humorless laugh. "And you don’t understand what it’s like to watch your sister die right in front of you while you pretend she doesn’t exist." His voice cracked. "I lost her long before she ever got sick. Because of you."

His father looked away, his jaw tight.

"You don’t have to love her," Caleb whispered, his voice hoarse. "But at least admit that she never deserved this. At least say it."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Caleb waited.

He waited for his father to say something—anything.

But he never did.

Caleb felt something inside him break.

He let out a breath, stepping back. "You’re a coward," he said, his voice hollow. "You always have been."

With that, he turned and walked away, his vision blurred with unshed tears.

His mother called after him, but he didn’t stop. He headed straight for Elyra’s room, his heart pounding.

She was still asleep, her frail body curled beneath the blankets.

Caleb sank to the floor beside her bed, his hands gripping his hair.

He had tried to protect her. But it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was ever enough. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...