Meanwhile, in California, Ethan lay beside his grandmother, staring at a photo of Della on his phone.
The image felt unreal—beautiful in a way that made his chest ache. His thumb hovered near the screen like he wanted to touch her through glass, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he was hoping for anymore: a miracle, a sign, or simply the chance to hear her voice one last time.
His grandmother slept beside him, her breathing soft and steady. Ethan stayed still, but his mind wasn’t at peace.
When Della’s call came through, his whole body reacted—like his heart had been waiting for it.
Her name flashed on the screen.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then something inside him tightened: anger, hatred—fear.
"I am not your timepass now!! Get lost!!" he whispered to himself with anger.
