~Antonio
The sound of sirens screamed through the night as I sat in the back of the ambulance, holding my father’s hand. His once firm grip was weak, his skin pale and clammy. Every cough shook his frail body, and it felt like each one took him closer to the edge.
“Dad, hold on,” I whispered, trying to sound calm, but my voice cracked.
Giovanni was seated on the other side of him, his jaw set in a rigid line, his eyes blazing with a mix of worry and anger.
We were about to close the ambulance doors when I saw Tiara rushing toward us, her face pale, her eyes glassy with tears. She reached for the handle to climb in, but Daphne stepped forward, blocking her path.
“You are not coming,” Daphne snapped, shoving Tiara back so hard she stumbled and nearly fell.
“Mama!” I shouted,
