Maria met his eyes, steady but fading. "I have less than a month. Maybe less. My organs are failing. They caught it too late. I might not even live to see my court date."
Ethan staggered a step back like the words physically hit him.
"No," he murmured, breath caught. "No, no, no. Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you—"
"What would it change?" Maria said, her voice laced with painful clarity. "They'd still label me a murderer. Isabella would still be placed into care. I'd still die in here, behind bars."
Ethan's hands trembled as he held the file. He stepped forward. His voice was raw, desperate. "I will do anything to make sure you don't spend the rest of your days in this place. I don't care what it takes. I will not let you die in here."
Maria shook her head slowly, sadness dimming her eyes.
