Nobody spoke.Mila's mother stood in the doorway, holding the photograph between her fingers.Samuel stared at her.“No,” he whispered.She looked at him sadly. “You don't remember because someone taught you to believe that forgetting was the same as being innocent.”Samuel shook his head.“I would never separate a child from his body.”“You did it to yourself.”The words struck the room like a thunderclap.The First One slowly rose to its feet.“Explain.”Mila's mother looked at Adrian, then at Samuel.“The child you loved was dying. His body could no longer sustain his consciousness. You searched for a way to preserve him, but every attempt failed. You became desperate.”She turned toward the First One.“You were so afraid of losing him that you refused to accept what he wanted.”The First One's face twisted with pain.“He wanted to live.”“Yes. But he also wanted the freedom to decide what living meant.”Samuel closed his eyes.A faint light appeared beneath his skin.Mila moved clo
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