The soft beep of the heart monitor marked time like a metronome—steady, patient, unbothered by the storm in Artur's chest.
The room itself was warm but dim. Shadows of the city lights flickered faintly on the wall, sneaking in through the blinds.
Billy remained motionless.
Artur leaned back slightly in the chair, his hand still resting gently over Billy's.
His thumb moved, slowly brushing across his knuckles in a soft rhythm—like a silent promise. Like a memory of comfort.
He stared at Billy's face.
"Do you remember the tree?" he said. "That night… when you said you wished to never feel lost again."
His voice was quiet. Steady now. A little heavier than before.
"I was the one who felt lost after you left."
He leaned forward again, elbows on his knees.
"I tried pretending I was okay. I even laughed like nothing happened. But when I went back to the lake alone… the wind didn't sound the same. The tree didn't look as tall. Nothing did."
His fingers tightened just a little.
