### **Chapter 4: The Weight of Silence**
The room was suffocatingly still, the quiet between Zaryn and Nadia lingering like a thick fog neither of them could see through. Zaryn had been watching Nadia closely, his usual detached calm beginning to fracture as he sensed the storm brewing beneath her surface. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew something had shifted. It was in the way she held herself, the way her voice had tightened when she talked about love, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly when she thought he wasn't looking.
But before Zaryn could say anything, Nadia's phone buzzed, cutting through the quiet like a sharp blade. She jumped, the sound clearly startling her more than it should have. Her hand scrambled to pick it up, and Zaryn could feel the tension ripple through the air as she looked at the screen. Her face, usually an unreadable mask, fell—just for a moment—before she turned away from him.
"Hello?" Her voice was strained, a little too forced, and Zaryn's eyes narrowed as he watched her. He couldn't hear what the person on the other end was saying, but he could see the color drain from her face as she listened.
"What… what do you mean?" Nadia's voice cracked, barely above a whisper now. She turned her back to him fully, her shoulders tense, body rigid.
Zaryn didn't move, didn't say anything. He just waited, listening to the one-sided conversation, the knot of unease in his chest tightening with every second.
"No, no, that can't—" Nadia's words cut off abruptly, and Zaryn saw her grip tighten around the phone until her knuckles turned white. She stood there in silence for a few moments, her breathing shallow, and then finally, she spoke again. "Okay. I'm… I'm coming."
The call ended with a sharp click, and the air in the room grew colder. Nadia didn't turn around right away, her back still to Zaryn as she stood there, frozen in place. He could hear her breathing, could almost feel the weight of whatever had just happened pressing down on her.
"Nadia?" His voice was soft, almost tentative, like he wasn't sure if speaking would break her.
She didn't answer for a moment, but when she finally turned around, her face was pale, her eyes wide and distant, like she wasn't entirely present in the room with him anymore.
"I… I have to go," she said, her voice tight, as if it was taking everything in her not to fall apart right then and there.
Zaryn blinked, pushing back the confusion rising in him. "Go where?"
"The hospital." Her voice wavered, and Zaryn saw her bite down hard on her lip, as if trying to keep herself from breaking. "My dad… he's… something happened."
Zaryn didn't need more than that. Without saying anything, he stood up, his movements fluid and quiet as always. "I'll go with you."
Nadia looked like she was about to protest, but then she closed her eyes and nodded, the fight draining out of her before she could even muster it.
---
The drive to the hospital was silent, but it wasn't the comfortable silence Zaryn was used to between them. This was different—heavy, oppressive, like the air was thick with something neither of them could quite name. Zaryn kept his eyes on the road, but his thoughts kept drifting to Nadia, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, her body wound tight like a coiled spring ready to snap.
He wanted to say something, to ask her if she was okay, but the words got stuck in his throat. He wasn't good at this—at comforting people, at dealing with emotions. He had always prided himself on his ability to stay detached, to keep himself separate from the messiness of human feelings. But now, sitting here with Nadia, he couldn't ignore the weight pressing down on him, the way his chest tightened with every second that passed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at her. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and unfocused as she stared straight ahead, her fingers clenched around the edge of her seat like she was trying to hold onto something solid in a world that was crumbling around her.
Zaryn felt the unease grow inside him, but he didn't say anything. What could he say? What could he do to make this any better?
Nothing. There was nothing he could do. So, he just drove, the sound of the tires on wet pavement the only noise breaking the silence.
---
The hospital was a blur of white walls and antiseptic smells. Zaryn followed Nadia through the halls, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, his eyes scanning the sterile environment around them. The farther they walked, the quieter Nadia became, her steps slowing until it felt like she was dragging her feet.
When they finally reached the room, Zaryn hung back by the door, letting her step inside first. He didn't know if she wanted him there or not, but he wasn't about to leave her alone.
Nadia froze the moment she stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on the hospital bed. Zaryn didn't need to see the body to know what had happened. He could feel it in the air, the cold finality of death hanging over the room like a thick fog.
Her father lay still on the bed, his face pale and gaunt, his chest no longer rising and falling with the steady rhythm of life. Machines that had once beeped and whirred were now silent, their purpose complete. There was nothing more they could do.
Nadia stood there, frozen in place, her eyes locked on her father's lifeless form. For a long moment, she didn't move, didn't speak. It was like the world had stopped, time suspended in that one horrifying instant.
Then, without warning, she let out a shaky breath, her body crumpling as she stumbled forward, collapsing into the chair beside the bed. Her hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing against the cold, lifeless hand of the man who had raised her.
"Dad," she whispered, her voice barely audible. It wasn't a question. It wasn't a plea. It was just a word, spoken into the silence, as if saying it could somehow make everything real.
Zaryn stood by the door, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing with things he didn't know how to process. He had never seen Nadia like this—so vulnerable, so broken. She had always been the strong one, the one who held it together no matter what. But now… now she looked like she was falling apart right in front of him.
And Zaryn didn't know what to do.
He wanted to go to her, to put a hand on her shoulder, to offer some kind of comfort, but he couldn't move. He didn't know how to be what she needed right now. Hell, he didn't even know if she wanted him here.
Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, as Nadia sat there, her fingers clutching her father's hand as if she could somehow hold onto him for just a little longer.
Zaryn swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn't know what. What did people say in moments like this? *I'm sorry?* *It'll be okay?*
But none of that felt right. None of that felt like enough.
Nadia finally let out a shuddering breath, her hand slipping from her father's as she slumped back in the chair. Her eyes were red, but she hadn't cried. Not yet.
Zaryn stepped forward, finally crossing the room to stand beside her. He wasn't sure if she even noticed him there until she looked up, her eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments.
"I don't… I don't know what to do," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
Zaryn stared at her, his heart pounding. "You don't have to do anything."
She looked back down at her father, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. "It doesn't feel real. I thought… I thought I'd have more time."
Zaryn didn't know what to say to that. Time was a cruel, unpredictable thing. It didn't care about plans or expectations. It just took what it wanted, when it wanted, and left everyone else to pick up the pieces.
He stood there, awkward and unsure, but he didn't leave. He couldn't. Something inside him told him that leaving would be the worst thing he could do, even if he didn't know how to help. So he stayed, standing beside her, a quiet presence in the room filled with the heavy weight of loss.
Nadia didn't cry. Not yet. But Zaryn knew it was coming.