Blame And A Wondering Surprise

His eyes remained fixed on her still form, lying peacefully on the bed. Her once vibrant blonde hair now lay damp and lifeless, devoid of its former radiance. Every detail of her pallor and stillness cut him deeply.

A gentle tap on his shoulder interrupted his silent vigil. Turning slightly, he saw Saldrich, her eyes full of compassion.

"They say she will come through, Al!" she murmured, offering a measure of reassurance. Yet her comforting words barely penetrated the storm of anguish within him. At that moment, nothing mattered except the sight of Fiona, motionless and fragile.

"It wasn't your fault, you know…" she began softly.

"We don't know that… If only—" he faltered, his voice choking on the weight of his self-reproach.

"No, Al, we do. And there is no 'if only' in what happened."