Chapter 95

Miguel POV

The steady hum of the ventilator echoed in my head, louder than the faint beeping of the machines keeping Diego alive. The pale blue light from the monitors cast cold shadows across his face, the only sign he was still here. Alive. Barely.

I stood motionless by the door, unable to step closer. I'd been there for hours, watching, waiting—powerless.

My father was across the room, hands tucked behind his back, staring at Diego like he was trying to memorize every detail. His face, usually so composed, was pale and drawn.

The silence between us was unbearable.

Marissa shifted in her seat near the window, glancing between us before finally standing. She walked quietly over to him.

"You should sit," she said gently as she pointed toward the empty chair closer to where she stood up from.

My father didn't move, his eyes still locked on Diego.