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**Chapter 2**
*"The heart carries burdens the hands cannot hold, and yet we cling to them, as if letting go would unravel us."*
The hospital room was a sterile cage, its walls closing in with the hum of machines that tethered Elias to a life he could barely grasp. At sixteen, he was a shadow of himself, his body a battlefield where an incurable disease carved its relentless path. The IV dripped like a clock counting down, and the window framed a sky he hadn't touched in months—a cruel reminder of a world beyond his reach. His mother, Anna, sat beside him, her fingers tracing the worn edges of an unread book, her face etched with worry that had deepened since yesterday's call: Elias's father, Richard, was coming. With him, he'd bring Lily, Elias's ten-year-old sister.
Elias hadn't seen his father in over a year, not since the divorce that fractured their family like glass. Richard, a real estate tycoon with a fortune that could buy anything but time, had taken Lily in the custody battle. Anna, scraping by on a librarian's salary and drowning in medical bills, couldn't afford to fight for both children. Elias, then fourteen, had chosen to stay with his mother, his quiet loyalty a shield for her breaking heart. Lily, too young to understand, had left with Richard, her small hand in his, her eyes clouded with confusion. Now, Elias wondered if she remembered him—the brother who built pillow forts and whispered bedtime stories—or if her new life, polished by wealth, had erased him.
The door creaked, and Elias's breath hitched. Richard entered, his tailored suit and gleaming watch a stark contrast to the room's bleakness. His gray eyes scanned the space before settling on Elias. "Son," he said, the word clipped, more duty than warmth. Behind him, Lily hesitated, clutching a frayed stuffed rabbit, her dark curls framing a face both familiar and distant.
"Elias!" Lily's voice was a spark, cutting through the tension. She rushed to the bed but froze when she saw the tubes snaking from his arm. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she was the little girl who'd begged for one more story.
"Hey, Lil," Elias rasped, forcing a smile despite the ache in his bones. "Still got Mr. Flops, huh?"
She nodded, hugging the rabbit tighter. "He missed you," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the floor. Elias's heart twisted. She was still his sister, but the years apart had built a wall neither could breach easily.
Anna stood, her movements stiff. "Richard," she said, her voice civil but strained. "Thanks for bringing her."
Richard nodded, his face unreadable. "How's he doing?" he asked, gesturing to Elias as if he were a problem to solve.
"Fighting," Anna said, her tone sharp. "Same as always."
Elias hated this—being reduced to a case file in his own life. He wanted to ask Lily about her school, her friends, the life she lived in Richard's world of glass and steel. But before he could speak, a sharp pain bloomed in his chest, sudden and vicious, like a blade twisting between his ribs. He gasped, his hand flying to his sternum, fingers clawing at the thin hospital gown.
"Elias?" Anna's voice was instant, laced with panic. She leaned closer, her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
The pain surged, a wildfire spreading through his chest, stealing his breath. Each inhale was a struggle, as if his lungs were filling with shards of glass. He tried to speak, to say *I'm fine*, but the words drowned in a wheeze. His vision blurred, the room tilting as the machines screeched, their alarms piercing the air.
Lily's eyes went wide, her small body shrinking back. "Elias?" she whispered, clutching Mr. Flops like a lifeline.
"Get the nurse!" Anna snapped at Richard, who fumbled for the call button, his usual composure cracking. Elias's chest tightened further, the pain so immense it felt like his body was betraying him all over again. He gripped the bedrail, knuckles white, his breaths shallow and ragged. The disease, that nameless thief, was clawing deeper, and he could feel it winning.
Clara, the night nurse, burst in, her kind eyes sharp with focus. "Elias, stay with me," she said, checking the monitors as she adjusted his oxygen mask. "Breathe slow if you can." But breathing was a battle, each attempt a stab of agony. He wanted to scream, to rip the pain out, but all he could do was endure.
Anna held his hand, her grip fierce. "You're okay, baby," she said, though her trembling voice betrayed her. Richard stood frozen, his face pale, while Lily hovered near the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. Elias hated that she was seeing this—his little sister, who should be chasing fireflies, not watching him fight for air.
The pain ebbed slightly as Clara adjusted his medication, the oxygen mask forcing cool air into his lungs. But the aftershocks lingered, a dull ache that promised more to come. Elias's eyes found Lily's, and he forced a weak nod. "I'm… okay, Lil," he lied, his voice muffled by the mask.
She crept closer, her small hand brushing his arm. "You don't look okay," she said, her voice trembling but honest. "Does it hurt a lot?"
Elias swallowed, the truth too heavy to share. "Yeah," he admitted. "But I'm tougher than I look."
She gave a shaky smile, clutching Mr. Flops tighter. "You always were."
Richard cleared his throat, stepping forward. "I've got a specialist in Boston," he said, his voice regaining its edge. "Top in the field. I can get him here."
Anna's jaw clenched. "We've seen specialists, Richard. They can't fix this."
"There's always another opinion," he insisted, as if money could rewrite Elias's fate.
Elias's chest throbbed, but he found his voice. "I'm not a project, Dad," he said, each word a labor. "Just… be here. Not in Boston. Here."
The room fell silent, the machines' beeps deafening. Lily climbed onto the bed, careful of the tubes, and nestled against him. "I don't want you to go," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"I'm trying, Lil," Elias said, his throat tight. He looked at his parents—Anna's quiet strength, Richard's faltering pride. "I need you all… with me."
Richard hesitated, then nodded. "I'll stay," he said, the words heavy with something like regret. Anna squeezed Elias's hand, her eyes glistening.
As the pain dulled to a simmer and the room glowed with fading sunlight, Elias held onto Lily's warmth. The disease might steal his breath, but it couldn't take this moment—not yet.
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