After dinner, Chloe walked into her father’s room. She sat by Marcus Bishop’s bed, her fingers interlaced with his limp, weathered hand. He looked peaceful, as if he were merely taking a long nap, but the machines humming in the background told a different story.
"Dad," she whispered, her voice cracking. "How much longer are you going to sleep? Why won't you wake up?"
Memories of his stern lectures and high expectations flooded her mind, no longer feeling like burdens, but like lost anchors. "I’m so sorry I didn't listen to you back then. If I could turn back time, I’d be the daughter who made you proud. I wouldn't let myself live this... this pathetic life."
She thought about her past self—the girl who was so utterly devoted to Liam Martin. Back then, she believed that as long as she h
