Mallory's heart lurched as she stumbled into the room, her breath catching at the sight before her.
Elizabeth lay motionless on the floor, her face pale, her body unnervingly still.
"Grams," Mallory whispered, rushing forward, panic gripping her chest.
Rocco was right behind her. "Damn it," he muttered, dropping to his knees.
Without hesitation, they lifted Elizabeth, carrying her out of the house. The weight of her frail body sent a sharp pang of fear through Mallory's chest.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. The red and white lights outside flashed against the windows, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't voice.
As they sat in the waiting area, the smell of antiseptic filling her nose, Mallory pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling.
"I'm calling Stella," she said, voice tight.
Agatha had arrived moments ago, breathless from rushing in, and now she tensed. "Mallory, don't."
Mallory shot her a glare. "No. There's something wrong with Grams, and I don't care what you say—Stella needs to know, instead of enjoying her happy married life"
Rocco let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You think she's enjoying her life?" His voice was rough, raw. "Simon is dead, Mallory. She's barely holding on."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
Silence stretched between them.
Agatha sucked in a breath. "What?"
Rocco dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply before recounting everything—the crash, the fire, the ashes.
Mallory could only stare at him, her thoughts racing, her stomach twisting.
"This isn't a coincidence," she muttered, the realization settling over her like a heavy weight. "It has to be Milor and Nora."
Agatha pressed her fingers against her temples, exhaling shakily. "Why is everything spiraling out of control in just days?"
There was something in her voice, something deeper.
Mallory frowned. "What else?"
Agatha hesitated. And then she looked at Mallory, her next words quiet but unshakable.
"Elizabeth is going to die."
The world seemed to tilt.
Mallory felt her heartbeat in her throat, her hands curling into fists. The words didn't seem real. They couldn't be real.
No.
Not Grams.
Her chest felt tight, her emotions swelling like a rising tide, but she forced herself to stay still. To stay quiet.
She wanted to scream. To break something. To demand the universe to take it back.
But instead, she swallowed the pain.
Like she always did.
Mallory walked out of the hospital, her hands clenched around the documents, her mind numb. The doctors had said what they could, and Agatha had done her best to prepare her, but nothing could dull the ache in her chest.
She got into her car and drove.
She didn't know where she was going—she just needed to move. To escape the weight of reality pressing down on her. The city lights blurred past, the hum of the engine barely registering in her ears.
When she finally pulled up to the building, she barely remembered making the decision to come here.
Stella.
She needed to see Stella.
Mallory stepped into the elevator, punching in the familiar code, her fingers trembling slightly. The doors opened to darkness.
The air inside was heavy, suffocating. A quiet so unnatural that it sent chills down her spine.
She walked further in, her heart pounding, until her eyes landed on Stella.
Sitting on the floor. Staring at nothing.
Mallory's chest tightened.
She had never seen her like this.
Not Stella, who was always strong. Always resilient. Always the one who held everything together.
Mallory moved before she could think, dropping down beside her and pulling her into a tight embrace.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice cracking. "I should have been there for you."
And just like that, Stella broke.
A sharp, heart-wrenching sob escaped her, and she clung to Mallory, her body trembling.
Mallory held her tighter, letting her cry, letting her release all the pain she had clearly bottled up for too long.
Tears burned in Mallory's own eyes, but she forced them back.
Because she wasn't just here for comfort.
She had come with more bad news.
And she had no idea how to say it.
Mallory's arms tightened around Stella, her grip firm yet trembling. She wasn't the type to express affection so openly, but right now, nothing else mattered. She could feel Stella's body shaking in her hold, her quiet sobs muffled against Mallory's shoulder.
Stella sniffled, her voice hoarse from all the tears she had shed. "You're hugging me."
Mallory let out a quiet, shaky breath. "I kind of needed it too."
For a moment, Stella just stood there, processing those words. Mallory had always been the strong one, the one who bottled up everything, who never showed vulnerability. But tonight, she was holding on just as much as Stella was.
Stella swallowed hard, but before she could say anything, Mallory gently pulled away and took her hand.
"You need to come with me."
There was something about the way Mallory said it—calm but firm, gentle but urgent. Stella didn't argue. She let Mallory lead her, her legs feeling weak beneath her.
She washed her face, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her swollen eyes, her pale skin, the emptiness in her expression—she barely recognized herself.
She didn't have time to process it.
By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, she was in the hospital.
She didn't remember the drive. Didn't remember Mallory telling her everything.
But now, as she stood outside the hospital room, reality crashed down on her like a tidal wave.
Her heart pounded as she pushed the door open.
And there she was.
Her grandmother, Elizabeth—Gigi.
Lying in the hospital bed, small and frail, her once vibrant presence now swallowed by wires and IV tubes.
Stella's steps faltered.
She had seen death before. She had felt loss before. But nothing could prepare her for this.
She moved closer, her breath shaky, her fingers twitching as she reached out.
Gigi's hand was cold.
Her chest ached, her vision blurred.
She was losing her too.
Stella inhaled sharply and forced a smile. It was weak, but she held onto it, for Gigi's sake. She had to be strong, at least for her.
But as she stood there, watching the woman who had raised her, loved her, and been her anchor in life… the weight of it all became unbearable.
Her voice cracked as she whispered, "Why do I have to lose everyone I love?"
The words hung in the air, heavy and filled with the kind of grief that couldn't be spoken.
And this time, no one had an answer.