After the doctor delivered his devastating news, he retreated into the operating room, leaving Liora and Alaric to grapple with the crushing reality. Everything around Liora blurred as a high-pitched ringing filled her ears, drowning out the surrounding noise. The words the doctor had said seemed to echo in her mind, but they didn't quite reach her. It was as if a heavy fog had settled over her consciousness, muffling everything. She felt detached, her body light and distant. As she tried to focus, her vision swam before her, and she realized she could no longer stand. Before she knew it, she collapsed to the cold hospital floor, unable to hold herself together any longer. The emptiness of the moment was overwhelming, and her eyes, unfocused and wide, stared into the nothingness before her.
Alaric, ever composed, stood over her with an expression that was calm hiding his pain in the midst of all the chaos. His strong arms gently scooped her up from the floor, cradling her like a delicate flower. It felt like a dream—no, a nightmare that she couldn't wake from. Her head rested on his shoulder, her body slack in his embrace. He carried her to the waiting room, his pace slow and steady despite the tension in the air. The room felt suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. They sat in silence, waiting for the next piece of news, as the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity.
Liora didn't know how long she had sat there, barely aware of the time passing. Days, hours—nothing seemed to matter. She stared out the window, her mind a blur of unanswered questions. The bright daylight outside felt like a cruel contrast to the darkness that had settled within her. The world outside seemed so far away, yet it continued to spin on, indifferent to the pain she was enduring.
Her body ached, but it was the emptiness inside her heart that caused the most agony. She hadn't eaten or drunk a single thing. Nothing could fill the hollow space that Orla's condition had carved inside of her. For two days, Liora had waited. Two days of hearing nothing but bad news. No improvement in Orla's health, no change in the heartbreaking silence that filled the ICU. Every moment that passed without progress only deepened the despair in her soul.
Alaric had remained quiet, his face unreadable, though she could sense the turmoil in him. He didn't say much, but she knew that he too was suffering. His worry was palpable, though he tried to shield her from it, and tried to be strong for both of them. His silence was like a weight on her chest, as heavy and suffocating as the unspoken words that lingered between them.
Soon, Liora's in-laws arrived. Her mother-in-law, Maeve, her father-in-law, Niall, and her sister-in-law, Fiona, all came to the hospital, summoned by the grim news Alaric had shared. They were her only family. Liora was an orphan, and she had no one else in the world to turn to, except to them. When Maeve re-entered the room, she moved quietly, her presence calm yet full of concern. She sat beside Liora, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Liora whispered, her voice shaky, "The doctor said to prepare for the worst. What does that mean? What do I need to prepare for?" She didn't look at Maeve as she spoke, her eyes still fixed on the window.
Maeve's hand tightened around hers, and Liora reluctantly turned to meet her eyes. "Don't be greedy, Liora. Orla has been waiting for you to say goodbye, even with the intense pain she's in," Maeve's voice was soft but firm, carrying a weight of experience and sorrow that Liora wasn't sure she could bear.
Liora pulled her hand away for a moment, her heart racing. The words were too much to handle. "But she's my daughter. I can't just let go of her, Mom. I can't."
Fiona, standing by her side, gently patted her on the back in a soothing manner. "You don't have to let go, Liora. But you need to accept that sometimes, the ones we love the most have to go, even when we aren't ready. You can't keep holding on forever."
The words were a knife to her heart, and Liora bit her lip to hold back the tears. The pain was unbearable, a constant ache deep within her chest. She wanted to scream, to shout at the world, to tell it to stop, to fix Orla, but she was powerless.
After what felt like an eternity of silent comfort, Liora finally stood up. Maeve's hands remained on her, steadying her. "You need to say goodbye, Liora," Maeve said quietly, her voice full of love and sorrow. Liora didn't respond. She just nodded, her legs unsteady as she walked slowly toward the ICU, her feet feeling heavy, as though she was walking through a dream.
The sterile smell of the ICU hit her as she stepped into the room, and there, lying in the bed, was her daughter. Orla's small body was covered with wires and bandages. Machines beeped softly in the background, a cruel reminder of the life that was slipping away from her. The heart monitor barely made a sound, each passing second more agonizing than the last. Orla's skin was pale, almost ghostly, and the bruises around her body were a reminder of the pain she is enduring.
Liora felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Her daughter—her baby girl was slipping through her fingers, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She took a trembling step forward, her hand reaching out to hold Orla's. The touch was cold, and Liora had to force herself to breathe. Her chest felt tight, her throat dry, as she bent down to wipe the dried blood from Orla's hands and face.
"Wait for me in the sky, little star. Watch over mommy, okay," Liora whispered through her tears. She kissed Orla's cold forehead, her heart breaking with each passing second. Her daughter's tiny chest gave a final, shallow rise—and then, nothing. The machines fell silent, the beeping ceasing entirely. Orla's body lay still, and Liora felt as though the world had collapsed around her.
She couldn't let go. Her hands remained clasped around Orla's, her eyes filled with memories of a time when everything was simpler. She remembered the first time Orla had walked, her tiny steps filled with excitement. She remembered the first time Orla had spoken, her voice a sweet melody that filled the house with laughter. She remembered her first day of school, how they had celebrated her sixth birthday with joy and happiness.
The memories overwhelmed Liora, and she cried bitterly, her sobs shaking her entire body. Her hands didn't leave Orla's body. Even when she heard the frantic footsteps of her husband rushing into the room, his voice breaking as he called out her name, she didn't let go. Alaric's anguished cries filled the air, his heart breaking alongside hers, but Liora could not bring herself to release her daughter.
She felt Alaric fall to his knees beside her, his arms trembling as he tried to pull her away. "Liora," he sobbed, his voice cracking. "Liora, we have to let go."