Daughter

Remo stepped outside the hospital room, his heart heavy with concern for his brother. Matteo sat on a bench nearby, lost in a haze of his own thoughts. His eyes were distant, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his emotions.

"Hey," Remo said softly, taking a seat beside Matteo. "How are you holding up?"

Matteo didn't respond at first, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the horizon. Then, slowly, he turned to look at Remo, his eyes clouded with sadness.

"I don't know, Remo," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I've failed them both."

Remo placed a reassuring hand on Matteo's shoulder, offering him what little comfort he could. "You haven't failed anyone, Matteo," he said firmly. "Stella needs you now more than ever, and so does your daughter."