AURORA
I didn't remember the exact moment that Sonya ended up in my hands as her body gave up to wracking, raw sobs that seemed to pierce the sterile air of the infirmary. The walls seemed to absorb the sound, shaking with the sheer force of her agony.
The sounds ripping out of her mouth were barely human. Suddenly, she wrenched herself free and ran blindly toward the bed, throwing herself over our father's unmoving form. She ran her trembling hands through his hair, cradling his face as if she could physically warm his cooling skin.
"I'm sorry," she gasped out, her voice fractured, unhinged by panic. "I'm so sorry, Dad... I should have said it. I should have let you hear it!" She pressed her forehead against his chest, begging the silence. "Can you still hear me? Please, just tell me you can hear me!"
