Amiriah person pov
After baking the cookies, I brought the plate upstairs and set them carefully on the table in my room, arranging them just the way Lani liked. Everything had to be perfect for her. I moved quietly so as not to wake her, though in truth she never stirred anymore since the surgery.
I climbed into bed, gently picking up Lani's small body and laying her across my chest like always, cradling her against my heart, hoping for that familiar weight and warmth. I let myself drift into the illusion that everything was okay, that it was just another night, just us and the cookies, and soon she would wake and smile and ask for her favorite story.
But morning came. The sunlight crept in, warming the sheets. I shifted a little, not wanting to disturb her. That's when I realized something was wrong. There was no warmth—Lani's little body, always so warm, was cold.
It hit me like a thunderclap. The spell shattered. I looked down and the shock finally broke, memory and reality colliding: her chest wasn't rising, her lips were blue and still. My baby, my Lani, gone—her small limbs wrapped in my arms, but all I could feel was the chill.
"No. No, that can't be real," I whispered. My throat closed, and the scream started—a sound so raw my chest heaved and tears blurred my sight. "No, no, NO!"
I clutched her tighter, rocking her back and forth as tears poured onto her face. "WHY? WHY DOES BAD THINGS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? WHEN WILL THIS PAIN GO AWAY—I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, IT HURTS."
"Uhhh, Kelani, my baby… what am I supposed to do? How can I live without you? AHHHHHHH, WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN! UHH—AHH—UHH—I DIDN'T KEEP THE PROMISE I MADE TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE BORN, I'M A BAD MOTHER—I PROMISED TO KEEP YOU SAFE." I was choking on the words, my voice shaking with every sound.
Despair blurred my senses. I lifted my head and screamed to the ceiling. "WHY AM I SO WEAK—I COULDN'T PROTECT MY OWN CHILD. NO MAGIC COULD HEAL HER, SHE DIED FROM TRAUMA. SHE SUFFERED BECAUSE OF ME."
Looking down at my daughter, my world for so long, I broke completely. The hollow ache twisted inside me, a burn of acid that climbed up my throat. I lay her gently on the bed and stumbled away, but when I turned to look back, I saw her—lifeless, pale, perfect—and the horror redoubled. I retched, vomiting until there was nothing left, then fell to my knees, sobbing and screaming.
I smashed the lamp off the bedside table. I clawed at the walls, tearing at my chest as if I could rip out the pain. "UHHH, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME—you CAN'T leave Mommy here all alone. I want to go with you, please, PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!"
Blood welled as I started stabbing at my chest, at my throat, clawing and scratching with nails and whatever sharp thing I could find, desperate to follow her to wherever she'd gone. The wounds kept healing instantly, skin refusing to break for more than a heartbeat, my darkness refusing to let me die. It knitted bone and flesh back together, defying my every plea.
"Why won't you let me die? Please, I just want to die—I don't want to live anymore!" My whole body shook, blood soaking the sheets, streaked on my face, pooling on the floor.
I heard shouting. Doors slamming. Footsteps. Lenna, Amara, all of them outside the room, screaming at me to stop, to let them help, to please just hold on. But none of them dared come close, none of them could pierce the chaos of my darkness.
I wanted the pain to stop, wanted someone—anyone—to do what I could not. I pounded my fists on the floor, pleading with my family. "PLEASE, JUST KILL ME. IT HURTS. I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE—SOMEONE, JUST KILL ME!"
No one moved. No one spoke. Only the darkness listened, wrapping tighter around me.
And then, from somewhere, two strong arms circled my waist from behind—steady, grounding, impossibly familiar. The scent hit me, the heat of him, and my body stilled. I leaned back without thinking, needing that anchor, still shaking like I'd break apart if I moved.
I turned, barely able to see past my tears—and there he was. Kaison.