"Gabriel, she can't be saved," Casaio stated. "The most we can hope for is that she rallies, just long enough to see Carlos one last time. He is already broken, Gabriel, grieving a loss that hasn't fully arrived."
Gabriel didn't look up, instead slumping into a heavy, leather-bound chair in the silent hospital lobby. His words were a whisper, "Why does this happen to the kindest among us? Why his grandmother?"
Casaio settled next to him, placing a comforting, heavy hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "It is her time, brother. She is very old, and her body is simply failing. It is a mercy, in a way." He paused, his expression softening with pragmatic sympathy. "Carlos is resting well, thankfully. But the moment he wakes, we must prepare him. We need to take her back home. They deserve a quiet, peaceful farewell. She is suffering too much here."
Gabriel gave a low hum, a sound of heavy understanding. It was time to manage the leaving, not the saving.
