Miguel's POV
The room stood frozen, the only sound the faint hum of the monitors. Diego's black, lifeless eyes were still fixed on us, but the voice that came from him wasn't his.
"You should have let me die." His voice hoarsed and deeper than his usual voice is.
Maria's hands trembled as she pressed her palms to his face, searching his expression for something—anything—that felt like her son.
"Diego," she whispered, voice breaking. "Please... fight this. Stay with us." She said with a calm and trembling tone as she attempts to move closer to him.
His body tensed, and I felt an icy dread settle in my chest.
"Mom, step back," I warned, my fingers inching toward my sidearm.
Maria shook her head, tears streaking her pale face. "He's still in there. I know it—"
