One day, Emilia's condition worsened. At that point, I no longer believed it was an illness, but rather a curse placed by my father. I didn't know how he had done it, but if it were a disease, I had no idea what it was. And if I didn't know what it was, then Emilia would die.
After years, I had finally returned to working on the Forster family research. If it meant protecting my wife and my son, I would do anything. But it was nowhere near completion.
So all that was left was to stay by her side until the bitter end. I stood at her bedside, holding her hand tightly. "I'm sorry, Emilia. I couldn't save you."
I must have looked terrible, because Emilia gave me a smile, and her free hand touched my cheek.
"It's not your fault, my love. I just have very poor health. So don't look like that."
I could no longer hold back my tears. The family I had built was being destroyed right in front of me.
