The roar of the ocean was deafening, louder than anything Damian had ever heard in his life. The waves crashed against the jagged rocks with merciless force, as though mocking his helplessness. He stood at the very edge of the uncompleted building, his eyes wide, his chest heaving violently, watching the spot where Amara and Mia had fallen.
"Quick! Get the ropes! Send men down!" the police officer in charge barked, his voice sharp over the chaos.
Several officers scrambled, ropes in hand, shouting orders to divers already running toward the shore. Eric was on his knees, trying to peer over the edge, his face pale and drenched with sweat.
Damian, however, could not move. His entire body trembled, frozen in shock. His hands clawed at the concrete floor until his nails broke, blood dripping freely, but he felt nothing. His heart had stopped the moment he saw Amara's body disappear into the raging water.
"Sir, we'll find them!" Eric tried to assure him, though his voice cracked with fear. "They might still be alive. The current could have carried them to the side-"
"Alive?" Damian's voice came out raw, hollow. He turned his bloodshot eyes on Eric, and tears spilled down his cheeks. "I saw her head hit the block before they fell! She... she was bleeding... and she's pregnant, Eric! Pregnant with my children! How can she survive this?"
His cry echoed into the night, the sound of a man torn apart from the inside. His knees gave way, and he collapsed onto the ground, his body shaking violently.
"Sir, please-" Eric tried to steady him, but Damian shoved him away, staggering back to the edge.
"Amara!" he screamed into the roaring waves. His voice cracked with such pain that even the officers nearby felt it pierce their hearts. "Please, don't leave me! Fight! Come back to me!"
But the ocean only answered with thunderous waves, swallowing his words whole.
The divers returned an hour later, soaked to the bone, shaking their heads. "No sign of them, sir. The current is too strong, visibility is low. If they fell, the tide might have dragged them farther out."
Damian's body stiffened, and then he broke. He dropped his head into his hands and sobbed uncontrollably, his powerful shoulders shaking like a broken child. He did not care that men were watching, that he was supposed to be strong. In that moment, he was only a man who had lost the love of his life and possibly their unborn children.
Eric knelt beside him, tears in his own eyes. "Boss, please don't give up. They could still be alive somewhere. People survive shipwrecks, storms... they might have washed up on another shore."
Damian shook his head violently. "No... no, I should have reached them. I was right there! My hands-" He looked down at his trembling hands as though they were cursed. "These useless hands couldn't save them. I failed her, Eric. I failed Amara."
His cries grew softer, weaker, until they were nothing more than broken whispers. The officers tried to comfort him, but nothing could pierce the crushing weight in his chest. For the rest of the night, Damian refused to leave the cliffside. He searched with the men, called out into the ocean until his throat was raw, even ran into the waves himself, but the tide pushed him back every time.
By morning, his body was exhausted, his eyes swollen from tears. He stood at the edge once more, the sun rising over the endless waters. For the first time in his powerful life, Damian felt truly powerless.
"Amara..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. "Wherever you are, please... please come back to me."
But the ocean stayed silent.
The sound of soft waves brushing against the shore was the first thing Mia heard. She stirred slowly, her body aching all over. Her head throbbed, her throat felt dry, and her limbs were heavy as stone. She groaned softly and opened her eyes.
A wooden ceiling came into view. She blinked, confused, her mind struggling to understand. She turned her head-and froze.
Amara was lying right beside her, still unconscious. Her forehead was wrapped with cloth stained faintly with dried blood. Her lips were pale, her face bruised, but her chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths.
"Mara..." Mia's voice cracked as tears instantly filled her eyes. She dragged herself closer, ignoring the pain in her own body, and clutched her friend's cold hand. "Amara, it's me... please wake up. Please."
Memories of that night flashed in her head-the screams, the fall, the violent water swallowing them whole. The way Amara's head hit the block before they went over. Mia had been sure her friend was gone. Yet here she was, still breathing.
The door creaked, and Mia snapped her head up. A woman walked in, holding a bowl of herbs. She looked to be in her fifties, her hair tied in a scarf, her clothes simple. Her presence was calm, like the sea after a storm.
"You're awake," the woman said gently.
Mia wiped her tears quickly. "Please... who are you? Where are we?"
The woman set the bowl down and sat on a stool beside them. "My name is Sarah. I live by the beach not far from here. Two weeks ago, I found you and your friend washed up by the shore. The waves nearly took your lives, but God was merciful. I brought you here and tended to your wounds."
Mia's lips trembled. "Two weeks?"
Sarah nodded slowly. "Yes. You were unconscious the whole time. She-" she gestured to Amara, "-was in worse shape. She hit her head badly. I've done what I can, but she hasn't woken yet."
Mia clutched Amara's hand tighter, fresh tears falling. "Please... she's pregnant. Did... did the babies survive?"
Sarah gave her a small, reassuring nod. "I listened for the heartbeat. It's faint but steady. The babies are still alive. She just needs rest. She needs to wake up."
At that, Mia broke down completely. She bent over Amara, her tears soaking the cloth wrapped around her head. "You hear that, Mara? Your babies are still fighting. You can't give up now. Damian is looking for you, I know he hasn't stopped. Please, come back. Please."
Sarah placed a gentle hand on Mia's shoulder. "Rest, child. You've both been through hell. Let hope stay alive in your heart. Sometimes God allows us to pass through storms, but He never abandons us."
Mia nodded weakly, still sobbing. She lay beside Amara, holding her hand tightly, whispering her name over and over as though her voice could pull her back from the shadows.
Outside, the waves continued their endless roar, but inside that small hut, a fragile thread of hope still burned.
And far away, Damian sat alone at his cliffside villa, staring at the horizon every evening, waiting for a miracle.
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