Two months.
That's all it took for the quiet emptiness Jesper left behind to become something deeper.
Two months since the greenhouse lights dimmed. Two months since the orchids began to wilt without their keeper's soft voice. Two months since Cain stopped laughing with his children and started simply sitting in silence—hands folded, as though waiting for something, or someone.
And on a quiet morning—clouded, still—Cain Sebanil died.
It was peaceful.
He was found in the greenhouse, beside Jesper's resting place. His coat was draped around his shoulders, and his fingers rested on a folded photograph of them both—Jesper smiling, his head resting on Cain's chest, their hands intertwined, one of the children peeking from the background.
There was no note.
But the moment Adrian saw the body, he didn't need one.
"He went to find him," Adrian whispered.
Ethan caught him before his knees gave out.
.
They buried Cain beside Jesper.
