THIRD-PARTY VIEWPOINT
Greyson approached the bed in three strides, calling out his father's name. How could this be? How could he have gone? He hadn't even felt him go. His hands hovered before eventually gripping his father's shoulders.
The skin remained warm, but there was no response beneath it, nor any powerful aura pressing back. He shook his father's shoulders, refusing to believe that this was the end.
“Father," he exclaimed, his voice breaking as he pressed his ear to his father's chest, hoping that the doctors had made a mistake, but he was met with unmistakable silence.
“No," he said louder this time. “You do not get to do this. Not like this." He clutched his father's shirt, as if he could will life back into him.
“Please, I need you. I need you, Father!" His voice broke as
