Mathilda’s POV

Fredric and I arrived at the hospital nearly an hour after we’d gotten the news. The traffic jam had trapped us, and every passing minute had gnawed at my nerves. I was in a state of panic, desperate for any update about my father’s condition. Mrs. Rosa hadn’t called again, and the silence made my fear worse.

I prayed silently — begged, really — that God wouldn’t hand me another cruel twist in this story of mine.

“Mathilda…”

Mrs. Rosa was the first person I saw when the elevator doors opened. Her eyes were swollen with tears. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me.

“What happened, Mrs. Rosa?” I asked, glancing past her. Several people sat in front of the emergency room with their heads bowed. The silence, the posture, the heaviness in the air — it told me something terrible had happened, something words couldn’t bear to express.

I pulled away from her embrace. “Please, Mrs. Rosa. What happened? How’s my father?”

Her lips trembled. “Your father passed away, Ma