You still couldn't believe it—this, your father, was really dead. The closed coffin in front of you was a stark, unyielding reminder that the impossible had become real. The man who had been the unshakable pillar of your life, the one who commanded every room he entered, now reduced to a silent, lifeless box. It was hard to accept that he would never speak again, never offer another piece of fatherly advice. You felt the weight of finality pressing down on your chest. The truth was beginning to sink in, but it didn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

You didn’t even care about the rain anymore. The weather mirrored your mood, heavy clouds hanging low in the sky, casting a somber gray pall over the world. Water streamed down your face, and you weren't sure if it was the rain or the tears you refused to acknowledge. The coldness that seeped into your bones felt distant, like everything else. Numbness was settling in, wrapping itself around you like a shroud.

A hand rested on your shoulder. You turned slowly, meeting Nathan’s gaze. He stood there, stoic as ever, an umbrella raised over your head to shield you from the rain you no longer noticed. Nathan, your family’s steadfast right-hand man, the one who had served your father with unwavering loyalty for as long as you could remember. His face betrayed nothing, not a flicker of emotion, but you wondered—was he suffering, too?

Nathan had always been a constant presence, vigilant, watchful, you had practically grown up with him in the background of your life. Even now, after everything, he was still here, making sure you were taken care of, just as he had done for your father. His loyalty never faltered. His silence spoke volumes, in the way he hovered nearby, in the way his hand lingered on your shoulder a second longer than necessary.