The hospital room was dimly lit, the glow of the monitor casting faint shadows across the walls. Jade sat by her grandmother’s bedside, her hand tightly clasping her grandmother’s frail one. Despite the exhaustion weighing her down, she refused to leave, her heart heavy with dread.
The rhythmic beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room. Jade rested her head on the edge of the bed, her eyes burning from the tears she had cried earlier. Every rise and fall of her grandmother’s chest felt like a fragile promise that she was still holding on.
A soft knock on the door broke the stillness, and Jade looked up to see Thiago stepping in, carrying a paper bag. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by a look of genuine concern.
“I brought you something to eat,” he said gently, placing the bag on the small table by the window.
Jade sat up, brushing her hair back. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
Thiago frowned, crossing his arms. “Jade, you need to eat. You’ve been here all day. Running on empty isn’t going to help anyone.”
“I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t think about food right now.”
Thiago sighed, pulling up a chair beside her. “Just try a little, okay? For her,” he said, nodding toward her grandmother. “She’d want you to take care of yourself.”
Jade hesitated, her eyes welling with tears again. “I can’t lose her, Thiago,” she whispered. “She’s all I have.”
“You’re not going to lose her,” Thiago said, though his tone wasn’t as confident as he wanted it to be. “She’s strong. And you’re strong, too.”
Jade sniffled, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “I don’t feel strong.”
“That’s okay,” Thiago said softly. “That’s why we’re here. To be strong for you.”
Later that evening, Milan arrived, a folded blanket draped over his arm. He stepped into the room quietly, his sharp gaze taking in the scene. Jade was sitting slumped in her chair, staring at her grandmother with tired eyes.
“You should rest,” Milan said, his voice low but firm.
“I’m fine,” Jade replied automatically, though the fatigue in her voice betrayed her.
Milan walked over and handed her the blanket. “You’re not fine. You need sleep, and this will help.”
Jade looked up at him, her lips trembling. “I can’t sleep. What if something happens while I’m not paying attention?”
“She’s stable for now,” Milan said, his tone softening. “And you’ll be no use to her if you collapse.”
Jade took the blanket reluctantly, wrapping it around herself. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Milan nodded, his expression unreadable. “We’re right outside. If you need anything, call us.”
Jade nodded, though she didn’t respond.
As the hours passed, the hospital grew quieter. The occasional footsteps of nurses in the hallway and the soft hum of the machines were the only sounds that broke the silence. Jade had curled up in the chair, her eyes fluttering shut despite her determination to stay awake.
Her grandmother stirred slightly, and Jade’s eyes snapped open. “Grandma?” she whispered, leaning closer.
Her grandmother’s eyes opened faintly, her lips parting as she tried to speak.
“Don’t talk,” Jade said quickly, brushing her grandmother’s hair back gently. “Save your strength.”
Her grandmother’s weak hand moved, resting lightly on Jade’s. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered, her voice so faint that Jade had to strain to hear it.
“Don’t say that,” Jade said, tears streaming down her face. “You’re going to get better. We’ll go home, and everything will be okay.”
Her grandmother gave her a small, tired smile. “You’ve always been so strong, Jade. Stronger than you know.”
Jade sobbed, clutching her grandmother’s hand tightly. “I’m not strong without you,” she cried.
Her grandmother’s breathing grew shallower, her chest rising and falling with difficulty. Jade’s heart raced. “No, no, no,” she whispered, panic creeping into her voice.
“Stay with me,” Jade begged, her voice trembling.
The clock struck midnight, and the monitor let out a single, piercing tone. Jade froze, her eyes darting to the screen. The steady rhythm had flatlined.
“Grandma?” Jade choked out, shaking her gently. “No, please, no!”
A nurse rushed in, followed by a doctor. They moved quickly, checking her grandmother’s vitals and the machines.
Jade stood back, her hands covering her mouth, her entire body trembling.
The doctor looked at her with a solemn expression. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “We did everything we could.”
“No!” Jade cried, collapsing onto the bed and cradling her grandmother’s lifeless body. “Please come back. Please don’t leave me.”
Thiago appeared in the doorway, his face pale as he watched Jade break down. He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Jade…”
She shook her head, sobbing uncontrollably. “She’s gone, Thiago. She’s gone.”
Milan and Enzo entered the room moments later, their expressions grim. Milan placed a hand over his mouth, his sharp composure momentarily cracking. Enzo ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tightly.
They stayed with her, their presence silent but unwavering, as Jade wept into the night, holding on to the one person she loved most in the world.
As the early hours of morning approached, Jade sat in the now-silent room, her tears dried but her heart shattered. Her phone buzzed in her lap, a text from Milan: “We’ll handle the arrangements. You don’t have to do this alone.”