Adam sat in the chair, his elbows resting on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. The weight of his guilt pressed down like an unbearable weight. Every memory of Elena flashed through his mind—her laughter, her fiery determination, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy. How had it come to this?
He couldn’t shake the image of her lying unconscious, hooked up to machines, battling something so cruel and relentless. The thought of losing her tore at him, and he clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. He needed to do something—anything—but he felt powerless.
Grace returned to his side and sat down, her presence a quiet comfort. “Adam,” she said softly, placing a hand on his arm, “I know how much you care for her. I see it in the way you look at her, the way you
