IAN
More days slipped through my fingers like sand, and still… no word from Emma.
I tried. Every damn day, I tried. But it was like reaching for a ghost and no trail, no clue, no voice. Just silence… and Olivia slipping further from the light.
She wasn't getting better. Despite the constant care, the specialists, and the warmth of the Pack House, she was fading.
Her once lively glow now dulled to a frightening pallor. Her skin is so soft and golden like her sister's was now pale and cold to the touch.
And the worst part? She wasn't fighting.
It was like a part of her knew Emma was gone… and chose not to stay behind. Sometimes I can't wonder how her bond with Emma is so tight.
I sat beside her, staring at her fragile form curled under the blankets. Tubes fed into her small arms. Machines hummed steadily. A delicate rhythm of life that wasn't strong enough. My jaw tightened.
