Syria’s POV
"You were never."
Everything became dull.
I was unable to think, unable to process everything.
I remained seated, gazing at the picture of my parents that I held.
I held it hard, thinking that if I clutched it long enough, perhaps the pain would cease.
Maybe they’ll return.
I missed them so much it physically hurt.
I extended my hand and softly pressed my fingertips against the picture, following their smiles as if it could revive them.
"Could you please give me some space? Just for a moment?" I ask without even glancing at him.
He didn't think twice.
“Of course. Is there anything you need before I leave?”
I shook my head slowly.
"Not right now... I just want to be by myself. If… that okay for you?"
“Sure,” he replied gently. “Anything that brings you comfort.
