Father's Farewell
The call came at 3:17 a.m., a number Ava knew by heart, Mount Sinai Oncology.
She answered on the first ring, heart already in her throat. Lucian's hand found her back in the dark, steady and warm.
Mrs Blackwell? The nurse's voice was soft, the kind reserved for bad news. I'm so sorry. Your father passed peacefully in his sleep about twenty minutes ago. No pain. He was smiling at a photo of you earlier tonight.
Ava didn't cry then. She just nodded, as if the nurse could see her, and whispered, Thank you. We'll be there soon.
Lucian was already out of bed, pulling on clothes, calling the driver. He didn't say anything stupid like It'll be okay, he knew better. He just held her hand in the car, thumb stroking her knuckles in silent rhythm, the city lights blurring past
