“It’s not that I don’t care about you,” I muttered. “I know. And I care about you as well. You’re helping me be stronger where I’m weak, and that’s why I’m doing this for you. Teaching you to be there for someone else, even when your strength can’t help them. Even when you feel powerless.” His voice was unbearably gentle, and the rattle of congestion at the end of the words broke my heart. “Open the curtains, Amarylla. Come to me.”
