ECHOES OF LOVE

**************I was awakened by the rays of sunlight coming from the heavy drape. The sun peeked through the expansive glass windows of the luxurious mansion, casting a warm golden hue across the elegantly furnished living room. I stirred awake in the plush king-sized bed draped in silk sheets. As I opened my eyes, I took a moment to appreciate the opulence surrounding me—the intricate chandelier that sparkled like diamonds, the rich mahogany furniture, and the priceless art adorning the walls.I swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the polished wooden floor beneath his feet. Stretching his arms, I let out a deep sigh, a mix of contentment and anticipation for the day ahead. After a quick shower, I dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric hugging my frame perfectly, a testament to my success and status.Descending the grand staircase, I admired the craftsmanship of the banister, each curve and detail a reflection of the wealth I had accumulated over the year

Nichola’s pov.. The loud crash jolted Nicholas awake. He sat up in bed, heart pounding, and glanced at the clock: 3:00 AM. Groaning, he threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed. The noise had come from downstairs, from the direction of the mansion's grand hall. I crept down the hallway, the old wooden floorboards creaking beneath my feet. As I neared the hall, I could hear frantic shouting. "Dad?" I called out, my voice barely a whisper. I pushed open the heavy oak door and froze. My father was slumped on the floor, clutching his chest, his face contorted in pain. Beside him, a shattered vase lay in pieces. "Nicholas," he gasped, "Help me... my pills..." "Dad!" I rushed to his side, dropping to his knees. "What happened?" "Chest... pain..." his father wheezed, barely able to speak. "In the drawer... get them..." I scrambled to the nearby table and yanked open the drawer and grabbed the small bottle of pills and fumbled with the cap, my hands shaking. I managed to get a

Flashback!! Third person’s pov Bridget sat in the dimly lit hospital room, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling the air. Her mother, once vibrant and full of life, lay frail on the bed, her skin pale against the white sheets. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor punctuated the silence, creating an unsettling soundtrack to the reality unfolding before them. Bridget’s father, Xavier, stood by the window, arms crossed, his face a mask of worry. Dr. Lawson entered the room, his expression serious yet gentle. "Bridget, Mr. Xavier," he began, pulling up a chair beside her mother's bed. "We need to talk about your mother’s condition." Bridget felt her heart race. "What’s happening, Doctor?" she asked, her voice trembling. Dr. Lawson took a deep breath, glancing at her mother, who looked at him with weary eyes. "We’ve run the tests, and I’m afraid the results are not what we hoped for. Your mother has been diagnosed with advanced brain cancer." The words hung in the air like a d