"You don't lose people all at once. You lose them in sentences you never got to say."
The nightmare hit before the sound did.
Flames.
Metal bending.
My father's hand slipping out of mine.
The smell... burning rubber, smoke, copper.
I jerked awake with a gasp, sweat sticking my shirt to my back. My heart was still racing, chest tight, lungs slow to remember how to breathe.
Then my phone buzzed violently on the nightstand.
2:03 a.m.
For a moment, I thought it was another threat, another problem I had to shield Sophie from. But the caller ID made my stomach drop.
St. Aurelias Hospital
My fingers trembled as I answered. "Hello?"
A nurse's voice; soft, steady, but urgent. "Mr. West? Your grandmother... she was found unconscious outside her home. You should come immediately."
Everything inside me stilled.
Not again.
Not her. Please, not her.
I didn't remember getting dressed. I just moved; pulling on jeans, a hoodie, shoes... moving fast, but feeling like the air had thickened around me.
When I stepped into the hallway, Miranda was carrying folded towels. She jumped slightly at the sight of me. "Grey? Are you—?"
"I'm going to the hospital." My voice cracked despite trying to steady it. "My grandmother... she's not doing well. Please, stay close to Sophie while I'm gone."
Miranda's expression softened instantly. "Of course. Go. She'll be safe."
I nodded and rushed out, keys shaking in my grip.
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and cold air. Too familiar. Too much like the night I lost my parents.
A nurse met me near the ward. "You must be the grandson. Mr. Grey West?"
I nodded, bracing myself.
"Your grandmother has been battling Hepatitis B for a long time," she began gently. "Unfortunately, it progressed to cirrhosis—long-term inflammation caused severe scarring to the liver tissue. Eventually, the liver can't function... it can't filter toxins or regulate blood clotting."
I swallowed hard, dread settling in my stomach like ice.
"With liver failure," the nurse continued, "complications arise—internal bleeding, infections. When the organs can't cope anymore... the body starts shutting down."
Shutting down.
The words echoed in the sterile hallway. She guided me to the room.
And there she was—my grandmother—lying still, fragile, tubes surrounding her like a web. Her chest rose and fell shallowly. Her eyelids fluttered.
I sat on the stool beside her, feeling five years old again.
Her fingers twitched before curling around mine. Her eyes opened, tired but warm. "Grey?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
I nodded, and tears blurred my vision instantly. "I'm here, Grandma. I'm right here."
She tried to smile. "Oh, sweetheart... crying? That's not very manly."
A broken laugh escaped me. "I don't care. I can't lose you too."
She squeezed my hand, as much strength as she had left. "We both knew this day would come."
I shook my head, choking. "Not like this. Not tonight. I'm not ready."
"You never are," she whispered. "But you've changed, Grey. You feel things now. You show them. That girl... Sophie, was it? I've never met her, but I like what she's done to you."
Heat climbed up my neck, a mix of shame, fondness, fear. My grandmother's hand lifted weakly and cupped my cheek.
"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, "don't let this break you. Don't let losing me dim your light. I'll always be with you."
An hour passed, and her breaths grew slower. Then slower...
Then... the monitors flatlined softly.
Her fingers slipped from mine. And I felt something inside me crack so deeply I thought the sound should echo through the walls, through the city, through the universe.
A few hours later, I sat outside the ward, elbows on my knees, hands covering my face, sobbing in a way I hadn't since I was a child—raw, shaking, helpless.
Her life had ended right in front of me. Another piece of my family gone.
Another person I couldn't save.
Footsteps approached slowly... hesitant, soft.
A hand touched my back, warm, gentle. I looked up.
Sophie.
Her eyes softened instantly when she saw my face. She didn't ask questions. Didn't say she was sorry. Didn't offer empty words.
She just stepped closer, sitting down and opened her arms slightly, enough for me to reach.
And I did.
I pulled her into me, hugging her tightly, burying my face into her shoulder as I cried. She held me without hesitation, her hand moving up and down my back, grounding me.
For the first time in a long time, the weight of the world didn't crush me completely.
Not while she was there.
Three or four hours after the funeral, I entered my room with the heaviness of a man carrying ghosts on his shoulders.
My grandmother's last words kept replaying.
"Find out what happened to my son. What really happened."
I sat on the bed, rubbing my aching eyes, when something caught the corner of my vision.
A photograph.
Another one of my father and Victor.
This time, my father's suit; the black tux with the copper-threaded collar... looked sharply familiar.
I stood quickly, heart racing, and pulled out my laptop as I realised.
Scroll.
Scroll.
Scroll.
Past searches.
Saved articles.
Then... The anniversary party article from years ago. The one I saw of Victor and Britney Lox hosting at the MontWest estate. And in the blurred background...
That suit.
My dad.
A chill ran through me.
On the day of the fire, we'd been at a party. I barely remembered anything except texting on my phone, not paying attention to the hosts... or the people... or the warnings I never heard.
I remembered him placing the copper-thread tux at the back of the car before we left. I remembered valet parking.
And suddenly it clicked.
Victor wasn't just some man in the company. He was Head of Infrastructure & Development.
He had access to controlled demolition materials. Legal access.
The kind you could use to make a bomb.
The kind you could plant quietly.
A hedge appearing out of nowhere...
A sudden swerve...
A blast from the back...
I grabbed the old file I had from the cabinet and flipped through the pages, pulling out a laminated document:
Termination of Partnership Contract – Christopher West & Victor Montez
Date: 21st March 2020, 7.30PM
The day of the fire!
My blood ran cold.
Victor terminated the partnership hours before the fire.
He didn't just betray my father. He killed him.
My hands shook violently as I gripped the laptop. The truth burned through me hotter than any flame I'd survived.
I didn't tell Sophie.
Not yet.
Because once I did...
Everything would change.
And the danger circling us would explode into something far worse than a few threats or roses left in the dark.