The house felt unbearably quiet.

Caleb sat beside Elyra, his hands gripping hers gently, terrified of letting go. Her breathing was shallow now, her body unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of her chest.

She was slipping away.

And he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

His mother sat across from him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She hadn’t left Elyra’s side either. It was as if both of them were afraid that the moment they stepped away, she would disappear.

Elyra had barely spoken all day. Her body was too weak, her energy fading too quickly. She had smiled at him once—just barely—but it was enough to shatter his heart.

And then, as if the world hadn’t tortured them enough, the front door creaked open.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway.

And then he appeared.

Their father.

Caleb’s entire body tensed. His mother stiffened beside him.

The man who had treated Elyra like nothing. The man who had stood by and let her suffer.

The man who had once said her death would "fix everything."

Caleb’s hands curled into fists, his entire body shaking with fury.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was cold, sharp like a blade.

Their father didn’t answer right away. His face was different now—his usual hardened expression was gone, replaced with something Caleb had never seen before.

Guilt.

Regret.

Brokenness.

"I…" His voice cracked. He took a step closer, but Caleb immediately stood up, blocking his path.

"You don’t get to be here," Caleb growled. "Not now."

Their father’s eyes flickered toward Elyra’s frail figure on the bed. "I just…" His voice was barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to see her."

Caleb clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body screaming to throw him out.

"Now you care?" His voice shook with anger. "Now, when she’s barely holding on? Now, when it’s already too late?"

Their father swallowed hard, his face pale. "I made a mistake."

Caleb let out a bitter laugh. "A mistake? A mistake is forgetting someone’s birthday. A mistake is losing your keys. You didn’t make a mistake. You destroyed her."

Their father flinched as if he had been struck.

Caleb’s vision blurred with rage and pain. "She needed you. She needed her father. And what did you do? You hated her. You hurt her. You let her believe she was nothing."

Their father opened his mouth, but Caleb wasn’t finished.

"She is dying," he spat, voice trembling. "And you don’t deserve to be here."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

And then, from the bed, a faint whisper broke it.

"Caleb…"

Caleb immediately turned around, his anger vanishing in an instant.

Elyra’s eyes were barely open, her lips pale and dry.

She looked so tired.

So weak.

"Don’t… fight," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Caleb’s heart clenched as he rushed to her side, kneeling beside the bed. "Elyra, don’t talk. Just rest, okay?"

She exhaled softly, her gaze flickering toward their father.

And then, to Caleb’s horror—she tried to smile.

Their father took a hesitant step closer, his hands trembling.

"I’m so sorry," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Elyra, I—I was wrong. I was so wrong."

Caleb turned to glare at him, but Elyra squeezed his hand weakly.

"Don’t…" she whispered.

She wasn’t angry.

She wasn’t bitter.

Even after everything, after all the pain and suffering—she still forgave him.

Tears slid down their father’s face, and he covered his mouth with a shaking hand.

"I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he whispered.

Elyra’s eyelids fluttered. "I know."

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

"But… I forgive you anyway."

Their father let out a strangled sob. His entire body shook as he fell to his knees, his hands gripping the edge of the bed like a man grasping for something he could never hold again.

"I should have been better," he cried. "I should have protected you. I should have—"

Elyra’s hand twitched slightly, and he hesitated before slowly reaching out, gently holding it between his own.

For the first time in years, he held his daughter’s hand.

And for the first time in years, Elyra felt what it was like to have a father’s warmth.

Caleb looked away, his own tears blurring his vision.

It was too late.

Too late for apologies.

Too late for redemption.

Because in a matter of hours, she wouldn’t be here anymore.

And no amount of regret could ever change that. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...