The room was still. The blinds shifted slightly from the soft breeze of the AC vent, casting lines of light and shadow across the white floor tiles.
Camila had stepped out briefly, and now Artur sat alone beside Billy once more.
The light brushed over Billy's face—unmoving, serene.
Artur leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. For a while, he said nothing. Just watched.
Then he slowly turned his hand upward—and placed it gently over Billy's.
He didn't need permission anymore.
"Hey…" he said quietly. "It's me."
His voice cracked on the second word.
"I'm sorry I came late. I should've been here sooner. I should've known."
A long pause.
The steady beep of the monitor was the only response.
Artur looked at him, eyes soft but rimmed with emotion. His fingers curled a little tighter around Billy's.
"The truth is… I've been talking to you every day. Out loud. In my head. In my chest."
He laughed lightly under his breath, humorless.
