— Sophia’s POV There was silence, in the midst of the storm. I'm not talking about the soft, not that kind. It was heavy, very thick, just like the forest had swallowed itself whole and was daring me to breathe first. I didn’t. I couldn’t. My lungs locked the way they always did when Irene went too still. But then, A twitch. His fingers again. very small. clumsy. Just like he was trying to hold onto a dream slipping out of reach. “Baby,” I whispered, kissing his knuckles. My lips trembled too hard, the kiss broke halfway, sloppy, wet. “You’re still here. You’re still mine.” Ethan shifted beside us, the sound of him was awful. His bones clicking, his breath ragged, just like every inhale was being chewed through glass. But his hand found Irene’s chest. Flat, steady, pressing down like he could weigh him back into the world. “Count with me,” Ethan rasped, but his voice broke halfway. “One… two…” He was shaking, and couldn’t even make it to three. I clamped my hand ove
— Sophia’s POVThe slab didn’t dim at all. It only pulsed. very slow and steady. Just like it had all the time in the world. Like it was enjoying this, watching every single one of us break apart in different piece.Ethan’s stare locked on it, his shoulders heaving.His hand still pressed against the dirt, bloody and trembling.I wanted to pull him back. Tell him not to look. Don’t give it the satisfaction. But my arms were heavy, full of Irene, and my voice cracked into silence before I could even form his name.Irene’s breath fluttered against my collarbone. Very thin, and fragile, and every exhale cut into me like glass. His fingers twitched, clinging so tight to my shirt.“Mom…” Barely there. A barely heard word. I bent down, kissed his temple. “I’m here, baby. I’m not letting go. I’m right here.”The groaned again. Louder. The sound crawled under my skin, into my teeth, into my spine. It didn’t feel like noise. It felt like something alive. Breathing with us. Breathing thro
— Sophia’s POVI watched Irene’s chest rise and fall. Not once, and not twice. There was a uncontrolled, scraping sound that was more like the atmosphere dragging air through him than his lungs working.My breathe seized, not because I forgot how to breathe, but because I didn’t want to steal a single ounce of oxygen away from him. My body got locked around his, my hands gripping him so tight that I thought I’d crush him, but if I loosened even a little, what if he slipped?Ethan was still slumped beside us, blood stain streaked across his jaw, soaking through the torn fabric at his shoulder. His eyes were wide, empty, too wide. Like he was watching something the rest of us couldn’t see anymore.“Ethan,” I whispered, half-pleading, half-warning.He didn’t answer. He just stared at our boy. His lips trembled, parted, closed again. I could hear the teeth grinding, clicking. His whole body was shaking, but it wasn’t from the wound. No, this was something deeper.Something gnawing at
— Sophia’s POVI didn’t breathe.I found it very difficult too, I couldn’t.Because if I let my lungs move then maybe his wouldn’t. And I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t risk proving he was really still.But still still.Ethan kept shaking him. Back and forth. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that Irene’s head lolled like a doll’s. His limp arms swung useless.“Wake up. Come on. Come back. You don’t do this to me, son, you don’t, ”I heard bones grinding in Ethan’s voice. Teeth cracking. He wasn’t begging anymore. He was commanding.But Irene didn’t listen.I leaned forward, my lips pressed to his temple. His skin, cold. Already. Too soon. “Please. Just one breath, baby, please, I don’t care if it’s shallow, I don’t care if it’s broken, just let me feel it, ”Nothing.And then the stone answered for him.The light surged, flooding the clearing so bright my eyes seared. The shadows peeled back but not away. They lingered just beyond, waiting, patient.It wanted us to look.
— Sophia’s POVThe sound wouldn’t leave me.That hum. Or maybe it wasn’t even there anymore. Maybe it was just stuck in my head, lodged so deep I’d never claw it out. Like a splinter under the skin that no amount of tearing could free.I held Irene’s hand too tight. His fingers limp, sticky with Ethan’s blood. I pressed them against my chest like I could warm them back to life, even though I knew, God, I knew, warmth doesn’t always come back once it’s gone.Ethan was still on his feet. Barely. His shoulders shook. His shirt clung wet and black to his ribs. He kept swaying forward like he meant to charge the stone itself, then rocking back like he’d collapse instead.He wouldn’t look at me. Not really. His eyes were glued to that crack in the slab. Wide, glazed, wild. Like if he stared long enough he could will it shut.“Ethan,” I whispered, my throat scraped raw. “You need to sit. You’re bleeding too much.”He barked something that was almost a laugh, but broken. “And what, let it
— Sophia’s POV The clearing was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not even safe quiet. It was the kind of silence that makes you afraid to breathe. Like if I exhaled too loud, the whole forest would turn and look.Ethan still had him. Our boy. Pressed to his chest like he could fuse them together if he just held hard enough. His knuckles white, his arms trembling, his blood dripping onto Irene’s shirt.And Irene, God. He wasn’t moving.His head lolled against Ethan’s collarbone, hair stuck damp to his forehead, lips pale. That small, soft hand that had pressed against my cheek minutes ago… now hung loose, dangling, swinging with Ethan’s shudders. I couldn’t take it. I dropped forward on my knees, clawing at Ethan’s arms, trying to pull Irene back to me. My nails caught on his shirt, tore the fabric. “Give him, give him to me,”Ethan shook his head so violently his jaw cracked. His face was a mask of blood and dirt and rage. His eyes wild. “No! Don’t, don’t take him from me!”