The room was cold, quieter than it should’ve been. The kind of quiet that screams in your ears. You sat by Madi’s side, her hand small and pale in yours. Her breaths came shallow, each one a battle. And you knew

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered, brushing a strand of matted hair from her forehead. Her skin was burning up, but she was shivering “You’re not alone.”

Her eyes fluttered open—those same sharp, wild eyes that had once challenged commanders and defied death itself. But now they were tired. Dimming

“Mom…” Her voice cracked like dry earth “Is it… time?”

You froze. It was the first time she called you mom. You swallowed back the lump in your throat. You were supposed to be strong for her. Always

“Not yet,” you lied. You smiled like it would hold back the end “You’ve still got to fight*

She gave a weak, crooked smile “Liar.”

She was right. You'd told her a thousand stories of survival. Of the times you almost died and didn’t. But this time, the story was ending

“I’m scared,” she whispered, voice barely audible

“I know,” you said, holding her tighter “Me too. But I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

She looked at you, really looked—through you. Like she was memorizing your face, one last time. Then, she said the words that will haunt you forever:

**“Thank you for being my mom.”**she said

You broke. Right there

“You are my daughter,” you said through tears “Always. You saved me just as much as I ever saved you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t the same. It was heavier. Final. Her chest rose once… then stilled. You didn’t scream. You didn’t sob. You just held her, rocking her gently, like you used to when she had nightmares. Only this time, you were the one trapped in one. The world had taken everything from you before. But this? Losing Madi? You just lost everything