Clara
An employee approached and placed a cup of coffee in front of me.
"Thank you."
I took a sip, and the silence returned. But this time it didn't bother me. I looked at the garden, the sky, the flowers.
And then a question appeared in my mind, a question I had avoided since waking up.
My father, the dream… His face receding.
It's time for you to go.
I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling a lump in my throat.
I turned slowly toward Ethan.
"How was it?"
He looked at me, uncomprehending.
"What?"
I swallowed.
"My father's death."
The change in his expression was immediate; his body tensed slightly, as if even now that memory still hurt.
He lowered his gaze, and for a moment I thought he wouldn't answer, but finally he spoke.
"It was hard."
Just like that… Two words that ca
