Elyra's breathing was soft, almost fragile, as she leaned against the wall of the attic, her plate of untouched food resting beside her. Caleb watched her fingers tremble slightly as she reached for a small piece of bread, her movements slow and hesitant.

She was trying to eat, but the weight of exhaustion was pulling her down, making each bite a struggle.

He clenched his fists.

It wasn’t fair.

For years, he had convinced himself that she was weak, pathetic, unworthy of love. But now, sitting beside her, watching her fight for something as simple as swallowing, he realized the truth.

She was stronger than all of them.

Yet, strength meant nothing against time.

And hers was slipping away.

Elyra must have noticed his staring because she set the bread down and gave him a tired smile. "You don’t have to watch me like I’m about to disappear."

Caleb swallowed. "I don’t want to look away."

She blinked at him, clearly surprised by his words. But then, instead of teasing him or brushing it off, she simply exhaled and leaned her head against the cold attic wall.

"It’s weird," she murmured. "Having you here."

Caleb lowered his gaze. "Yeah."

He wished it wasn’t.

They sat in silence for a while. Outside, the world was starting to wake, but inside the attic, time felt slower, heavier. It was as if this space existed separately from the rest of the house—from the cruelty of their parents, from the pain, from the past.

But it didn’t.

And reality would catch up soon enough.

Caleb hesitated before speaking. "Is there anything you want to do?"

Elyra turned her head slightly to look at him, confusion flickering in her tired eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You have… time left." The words felt like knives in his throat. "If there’s anything—anything at all—that you want to do, just tell me. I’ll make it happen."

She laughed softly. It wasn’t a happy laugh. More like a breath of disbelief.

"You say that like I have dreams," she murmured.

Caleb frowned. "You don’t?"

Elyra was quiet for a long moment. Then she whispered, "I used to."

His chest tightened.

"Tell me," he said. "Please."

Elyra let out a small sigh, tilting her head back against the wall as she closed her eyes. "I wanted to see the ocean."

Caleb blinked.

The ocean.

Something so simple. So ordinary. And yet, something she had never been allowed to experience.

She continued, her voice soft and distant, as if she were speaking to herself. "I read about it once… how the waves never stop moving. How the water stretches so far that it looks like the sky and the sea become one." A faint smile ghosted her lips. "I used to think… maybe if I stood there, I’d feel free. Like I wasn’t trapped here anymore."

Caleb felt his throat tighten.

He had spent his entire life taking everything for granted. The world outside, the freedom to come and go as he pleased, the ability to live without the weight of pain pressing down on his chest.

But Elyra… she had been locked inside this house, treated as nothing more than an inconvenience.

And now, she was running out of time.

He stood abruptly, causing her to look at him in confusion.

"We’re going," he said.

Elyra frowned. "What?"

"To the ocean." His hands clenched into fists. "We’re going."

She stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head. "Caleb, that’s ridiculous. I can barely walk across the room without feeling like I’m going to pass out."

"I don’t care." His voice wavered. "I’ll carry you if I have to."

She let out a soft breath, looking away. "Mom and Dad would never let me go."

Caleb’s jaw tightened.

He was done listening to them.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t care what they thought. He didn’t care about their rules, their expectations, or their cruelty. They had already stolen too much from Elyra.

He wasn’t going to let them take this too.

"Pack whatever you need," he said firmly. "We’re leaving tonight."

Elyra gave him a doubtful look, as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe him. But there was something in his expression—something desperate, something raw—that made her hesitate.

And then, slowly, she nodded.

Caleb let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He turned to leave, but before he reached the door, she called out to him.

"Caleb."

He glanced back.

For a moment, she looked uncertain, as if she wanted to say something but was afraid to. But then, finally, she whispered, "Thank you."

His chest ached.

"You don’t have to thank me," he murmured.

Because this wasn’t a favor.

It was the least he could do. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...