Helena’s POVThe words lingered longer than they should have, sitting wrongly in my chest the moment they left my lips, heavy in a way I couldn’t shake off even as Tessy kept staring at me, I wasn't even sure she had spoken..I could only hear myself, my grandfather's weak voice echoing in my head, louder now.He isn’t dead, isn’t gone. He's still there, breathing, talking, asking things of me. And yet… it hadn’t felt that way in that room.A tight pressure settled deep in my chest, slow and suffocating, like something I didn’t want to name was quietly taking shape.Is he actually going to die? The thought slipped in before I could stop it.I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening slightly around the strap of my bag.No. I'm not doing that. I'm not going to stand here and decide how much time he had left like it was already over.Whether he's dying or not… whether this is the end or not… I just want to be there, to do something. To make whatever time he has left, days, weeks, or longer
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