CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER 3

LILA POV:

Lila pulled open the door to her father's workshop, where she was met by the familiar fragrance of sawdust and varnish. It was a smell she had remembered since she was a youngster, a constant companion amidst her life's ever-changing currents.

Ethan Emerson stood slumped over his workstation, his broad shoulders straining against the tightness of his well-worn shirt. The rhythmic rasp of sandpaper against wood filled the air, interrupted by her father's grunts of stress.

Lila lingered in the doorway for a time, her fingers twitching with the want to announce her arrival. But something was holding her back, a tension that appeared to crackle in the air between them like static electricity.

Finally, Ethan looked up, his brow furrowing as he noticed her there. "Lila," he grumbled, his voice rough. "Didn't hear you come in."

Her hands moved smoothly, each gesture precise and purposeful. "You were focused on your work."

Ethan grumbled again and dropped the half-sanded plank with a dull thud. His glance flicked over her face, searching for something Lila couldn't quite figure out. "How is your friend doing?" "Mia, right?"

Lila's countenance stiffened, and a spark of despair passed across her features. Her actions were sluggish, hampered by the seriousness of the situation. "Not doing well. The Doctor said she needed a few days to recover properly"

Ethan's jaw twitched, and he nodded quietly, his eyes abruptly downcast. An uneasy pause stretched between them, full of unspoken words and unsolved tensions.

Desperate to fill the emptiness, Lila's fingers began to move again, the movements rushing out. "I was thinking we should practice some signs together. "It's been a while since we did that."

Ethan's eyes refocused, a surprise flickering across his weathered features. For a time, he appeared to reject, his mouth clenched with obstinate determination.

His expression softened, and he nodded reluctantly. "Okay, yeah. "We can do it."

Relief flooded over Lila, and she felt some of the strain leave her shoulders. She crossed the chaotic workshop and positioned herself across from her father, hands set and ready.

The first few signals consisted of simple words and phrases that Ethan had long since memorized. But as Lila's movements became more complex, her father's face pinched in concentration, his lips silently mouthing the words as he strained to keep pace.

Ethan's face became frustrated, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Slow down, will ya?" he demanded, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I can't keep up with that quick shit."

Lila's fingers stilled, and she took a long breath, determined to remain calm. Her gestures were purposeful and exaggerated, and as she repeated the words, her gaze fixed on her father's face.

Ethan nodded, his jaw set in a harsh line as he mimicked her gestures, his movements stiff and uncomfortable. But as he continued to sign, his brow gradually relaxed, and a spark of comprehension appeared in his eyes.

Encouraged, Lila began a more difficult statement, her hands weaving beautiful patterns across the air. But as she neared the conclusion, her elbow struck the edge of the workbench, knocking a nearby saw to the floor.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion in a matter of seconds. Ethan surged forward, his rough palm tightening around the saw's handle in a reflexive effort to grab it. However, the blade was already spinning, its deadly teeth gleaming in the harsh workshop light.

A horrific crunch rang throughout the room as the saw ripped into Ethan's flesh, leaving a large, jagged gash on his palm. He recoiled with a guttural howl, his face contorted in agony as blood dripped between his clasped fingers.

Lila's hands flew to her lips as her eyes widened in fear. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, each pulse producing a thunderous thud in her ears. She pushed forward, her fingers quivering as she peeled apart her father's hand, displaying the horrific cut.

Ethan yelled vehemently, his words an upsurge of grief and rage. "F*cking hell, Lila!" "Look at what you made me do!"

His words cut through her like razor swords, and Lila flinched as if struck. Her hands fluttered frantically, appealing and apologizing. "I'm so sorry, Dad. It was an accident. Allow me to help you."

But Ethan was already staggering to his feet, his teeth twisted into a tight line. "Just...leave me alone," he snarled, his voice loud and straining. "I can take care of this myself."

Lila's heart fell as she saw him stumble out of the workshop, leaving a red trail of drops. Her hands dropped loosely to her sides, the weight of her father's words resting heavily on her shoulders.

As the blood-tinged sawdust swirled about her feet, she felt the old agony of loneliness crawl into her bones, a hollow void that no number of apologies or explanations could ever fill.

The weight of her father's rejection hung in the air, thick and oppressive. Lila remained transfixed in the center of the workspace, her hands quivering at her sides as the reality of what had happened set in.

The horrific crunch of the saw blade cutting into Ethan's skin echoed in her head like a twisted refrain. Her stomach roiled with sickness and remorse, and the strong smell of sawdust and copper irritated her nose.

Lila squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the world would stop whirling. She couldn't face the notion of her father suffering alone, caring for his wound with the same harsh determination that had always kept them apart.

Her fingers tightened into white-knuckled fists, and her nails bit into her hands. That was enough. She was tired of standing by as the distance between them widened.

With a sharp inhalation, Lila whirled on her heel and walked towards the open doorway, her strides propelled by a newfound determination. She followed a red trail of drips, each scarlet bead flashing like a flashing sign, directing her to her father.

The metallic aroma of blood intensified as she approached the small restroom off the main corridor. The door was slightly open and Lila could hear Ethan's muted curses coming through the breach.

She paused briefly, her hand lingering above the doorknob. Then, before she could question herself, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

Ethan looked up immediately, his eyes tightening into a fury as she came in. He stooped over the sink, a wad of bloody paper towels gripped in his quivering palm.

"I told you to leave me the hell alone," he hissed, his words tinged with hurt and rage.

But Lila stood firm, her jaw set in a determined line as she met her father's piercing gaze. Her fingers moved with a deliberate and constant pace. "You are hurt, Dad. Allow me to help you."

Ethan opened his mouth, no doubt ready to deliver another biting retort. But as his gaze shifted to her firm countenance, the fight seemed to vanish from his body.

With a weary moan, he sank back against the washbasin, his shoulders dropping in surrender. "Alright, kid," he murmured gruffly. "Do your thing."

A tremulous smile tugged at Lila's lips as she took a step forward, gently pulling the filthy paper towels from her father's white-knuckled grip...