As noon approached, Corey headed to the kitchen to prepare her meal himself.

Gemma's eyes followed his retreating figure, a mix of emotions swirling in her gaze.

Gemma agreed to stay with Alicia, finding solace in the arrangement.

When packing Gemma's belongings, Corey's eyes fell on the meticulously folded clothes in the wardrobe, and Pierre's past dedication washed over him like a tidal wave. His heart constricted with an overwhelming regret that carved deep furrows of pain through his soul. The memory of Pierre's death and the innocent lives lost in Terriland weighed on him like lead mistakes so grave that even a hundred deaths couldn't begin to absolve them.

With trembling hands, Gemma retrieved a box containing Pierre's few remaining possessions. Among them lay a necklace, forever destined to remain ungiven.

As Gemma placed it in Corey's hands, its weight felt crushing-heavier than any physical burden he'd ever carried.

“Do you still blame me?" Corey's words hung in the air.

Gemma's silence stretched between them.

Time slipped through their fingers until the moment of departure arrived. Corey's heart ached as he fed Gemma the gentle lie about a business trip and a swift return.

Gemma's fragility prevented her from walking Corey out as she once would have, her strength barely sufficient for a few steps.

At every turn, Corey looked back, drinking in the sight of Gemma until she faded from view. Only then did he sink into the car's leather seat, The necklace, meant for Pierre, rested against his chest.

Dreams had become Gemma's sanctuary lately. In those ethereal moments, health flowed through her veins, and sweetness danced on her tongue.

Pierre visited her there, whispering promises to take her far away from all this pain.

Some nights, when the endless medications and sleepless hours of agony became too much, Gemma longed for a final rest. But morning would creep in, bringing thoughts of Corey that anchored her to life. She'd brush away her tears, determination kindling anew in her heart.

Alicia remained a constant presence, gently wiping away the cold sweat that painted Gemma's skin, helping Gemma change into fresh, sterile clothes Gemma's forehead creased with concern. “Alicia, when will Corey be back?" Her voice trembled with the question.

Alicia didn't know. Three days-that was what Corey had promised if everything went according to plan. But those three days had come and gone like autumn leaves in the wind.

“He'll be back tomorrow," Alicia found herself weaving a gentle lie.

“Get better soon, Gemma, so you can welcome him home yourself."

“Will I still be alive when he returns?" Gemma's question hung in the air like frost.

Alicia's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening. They'd guarded this secret so carefully—how could Gemma have known about her condition?

“I knew it from the first day, Alicia." The words scraped past Gemma’s parched lips, each syllable draining what little strength she had left.

Fighting back tears, Alicia squeezed Gemma's delicate hand. "Hold on for the sake of your brother, Gemma. Just hold on a little longer."

Gemma nodded gently. But she was in so much pain, gasping for air. Her compromised immune system had betrayed her, spawning mysterious wounds and bruises that defied all treatment. Day by day, her frail form withered Like a flower in winter.

“Gemma, just hold on a little longer,” Alicia whispered, her fingers tracing soothing circles on Gemma‘s hand.