I stepped closer, heart still hammering, and tried to keep my voice steady. "Good morning, Mum," I said, careful, polite.
She looked at me like I'd suddenly become invisible. Just shrugged, that cold, sharp look I've seen a thousand times before. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone cutting through the quiet of the hospital lounge.
I swallowed, my throat tight. "This is my grandfather-in-law… I need to be here," I said, trying to make her understand, trying to hold myself together.
"By paper only," she replied, dismissive, not bothering to soften her tone.
Before I could even think of a reply, a warm hand landed on my shoulder. Miriam. My husband's sister. She hugged me immediately, pulling me into a safe, grounding warmth I hadn't realized I needed so badly. I let myself lean in, closing my eyes for a moment, feeling some of the tension in my chest ease, just a little.
"How are you?" I asked, my voice quieter this time, almost lost in the hum of the hospital.
"I'm fine," she said softly, giving me a reassuring smile. "No update yet from the doctors. He's still in surgery."
I sank into the nearest chair, letting Miriam's hand stay in mine, holding it gently. Her presence was a tiny lifeline, and I squeezed back, offering her a small smile in return.
Time stretched. The soft beeping of machines, the echo of footsteps in the hall, the murmur of voices—it all felt distant, muted by the storm of my thoughts. And then I saw him. Axel
My heart skipped. I smiled at him, instinctively stood, ready to speak, to reach out, to say something—but he walked past without even glancing my way. Nothing.
Selene ran to him instead, collapsing dramatically into his arms. She cried, all the sharp, loud emotion she always carried, and he held her, murmuring words I couldn't hear but could feel in their quiet gravity.
I sank back into my chair. My chest felt heavy, a little ache of sadness settling there. This is how he always behaved. Cold. Distant. That's just who he is. The marriage had never been his choice; it had been arranged, forced by the grandfather now lying in surgery, fighting for his life.
Miriam noticed me shift and squeezed my hand again, gently, quietly, and I returned her smile, small but real.
Minutes dragged. Then the doctors came out, their faces solemn, serious. One stepped forward.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "We couldn't save him. He's gone."
The world went cold. My stomach dropped. Selene collapsed into Axel's arms, her crying louder, desperate. He held her, steady, comforting, murmuring words I couldn't catch. Miriam's face fell into her hands, letting her grief spill openly. I stayed seated, holding her hand tight, letting the wave of loss wash over me slowly.
And then my thoughts went to my child. How would I tell her? How would I explain that her great-grandfather—the man who adored her so much—was gone? My chest tightened, a raw ache that I couldn't shake. I clutched Miriam's hand again, letting her warmth remind me I wasn't completely alone in this. Everyone around me was breaking in their own ways, crying, holding on, letting the grief spill out. And I… I had to stay calm, just enough, for everyone who needed it.