When Sophie came to, it felt like she was waking up from a deep, dreamless slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself in a hospital's intensive care unit. The sunlight pouring in through the window was almost blinding. Colby was right there beside her, "Where's Gordon?" Sophie's voice was thick with emotion, almost breaking.
having stayed up all night.
The room was filled with silence. Odie, Jenna, and Adler were there too, but no one dared to speak.
"Colby, please, tell me," Sophie pressed, her voice calm but quivering underneath.
Colby struggled to find the words.
Sophie turned her gaze to Jenna, her eyes brimming with a pain she couldn't hide anymore. Everyone could see how hard she was trying to keep it together. "Jenna, you have to tell me."
"I... I..." Jenna stammered, unable to say what needed to be said, her eyes meeting Sophie's.noveldrama
Adler, flustered, offered, "Maybe... maybe you should rest a little more..."
"He's in the morgue. Do you want to see him?" Odie finally broke the heavy silence.
The air seemed to freeze with those words.
Sophie's eyes immediately filled with tears. She turned her head stubbornly, fighting to keep her emotions in check. "I'm not going."
Odie continued gently, "He passed last night. They're taking him to the funeral home for cremation in an hour. If you don't go, you'll miss your chance to say goodbye."
"I'm not going! I said I'm not going! I'm not!" Sophie's composure shattered, and she pounded the bed with her fists, trying to release the tidal wave of grief inside her. Colby watched, aching to reach out and comfort her, but he knew Sophie needed space right now.
"Let's give her some room," Colby suggested, getting up.
Jenna looked at Sophie, worry etched on her face, then let Adler guide her out. Odie followed, leaving Sophie alone.
As soon as she was alone, the tears
came, streaming down her face
she sobbed and screamed,
swivel
desperately trying to let out her pain.
The room was a mess.
Sitting on the cold floor, she hugged her knees, feeling more alone than ever.
When Harold walked in, he saw the chaos that surrounded her.
He hadn't slept either, his eyes red
from
nextaustion and sorrow. He sat Sophie, leaning against
I bed.
His grief was just as deep as hers.
"This was my brother's," Harold said, placing a carefully preserved tin box in Sophie's hands.
Sophie ran her fingers over the familiar pink box, a childhood gift from her brother.
Inside was a single folded piece of paper.
She unfolded it to reveal a child's drawing.
A little girl holding hands with a slightly taller boy.
Sophie remembered drawing it. Back then, her brother was her world, the person she leaned on the most.
"Go see him," Harold urged softly. "It might give you some peace."
Gordon smitted weakly, adding, "My brother always knew this day would come. He hoped that if you didn't remember, maybe it wouldn't hurt as much. And he was right, untiDthe accident brought it all back."