He dropped to his knees beside her wheelchair, heart slamming violently against his ribs like something desperate to escape.
“I know… I know…” he said quickly, his voice rushing out in an attempt to sound steady.
But it wasn’t.
The tremor betrayed him instantly.
He was unraveling.
His hands hovered in the air, unsure where to touch, what to do—where to fix something that couldn’t be fixed. The helplessness hit him like a physical blow.
Useless.
The realization stole the air from his lungs.
The sunlight, which only moments ago had felt warm and comforting, now felt cold and harsh, almost accusing. It exposed the fragility of everything they had built, highlighting the cracks they had tried so hard to ignore.
Still nothing moved.
The world was waiting.
Holding its breath.
What could cause something like this—so sudden, so devastating?
Was it physical?
Psychological?
Or something darker—something hidden beneath everything they thought they understood?
It hadn’t always been like this.
There were memories—fading, but still painfully clear—of a little girl running through open fields, her laughter ringing through the summer air.
She had once been vibrant. Strong. Fearless.