His Dying Heart, Her Fatal Betrayal

t, stripped of all emotion,

n. Stage four. It's aggres

silence. The words didn't connect. It felt like he was talking about someone in a movie, not m

d to ask, my own voi

radiation and chemo, we might be able to extend that.

he street. My mind was a blank wall of static. Terminal brain cancer. On the same day I was supposed to final

t had never truly felt like mine. I needed to walk, to feel the pavement under my feet, to pretend this w

when it

two figures, shadows against the dim light at the end of the alley. They didn't say anything. They just kept kicking, their movements brutal and efficient. My laptop bag, c

of a machine. My head throbbed, and every inch of my body ached.

ive parents. Mr.

ke panic. "We heard what happened. We' re on a business trip in Europe, it' s urgent, bu

elt hollow,

later. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked

. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have insisted you

oo raw. I just squeezed her hand. For a moment, I felt a fli

o the hallway to take a call. I was leaning against the doorframe, trying to str

ng his big award ceremony, you let Etha

ismatic social media influencer with a charming smile and zero talent for an

a social media post from my girlfriend, Chloe Davis. It was posted an hour ago, but it wa

de of him stood Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, their faces beaming with a kind of pride I hadn't seen

e business trip. The award. The assault. It all clicked into place with

ken smile tou

alking anyway. Th