I froze at the accusation, her trembling finger still pointed at me. Me?
"It's because of him!" she shouted again, her voice raw and cracking. "Because of him, I can never make my father acknowledge me!"
I let out a long sigh. Seriously—a goblin with daddy issues.
"That's unfortunate," I said evenly, my tone measured. "Really, it is. But you have to accept that you'll never get that chance again. He's gone."
Nira snapped her head toward me, eyes wide with disbelief, as if silently telling me to stop talking. To her, I sounded cruel, insensitive even. But I wasn't here to comfort anyone.
Zivra needed to face reality. This world didn't spare time for grief. Those who spent too long mourning ended up as corpses themselves. Survival demanded detachment.
"Why?" I asked, turning to Nira, unbothered by her glare. "You know it's the truth."
