Brandan Hyde sat next to her, his face covered in tears.
It turns out that there was a time, unknown to him, when she had given him a chance.
That night was her final deadline for him.
But what could that change?
He couldn't foresee those events.
He didn't make it in time to save her.
She originally wouldn't have fallen ill, she wasn't supposed to be like this, she was still so young, she shouldn't have to endure any of this.
It was he who personally turned her into this.
He couldn't imagine those twelve pitch-black hours, how Iris Harris endured them, from hope of survival to complete disillusionment, he dared not imagine.
In this world, there's simply no such thing as empathy—what he could imagine as the greatest fear might not even amount to a fraction of what she felt that day.
He didn't know how to seek her forgiveness, nor even how to face her again.
If it were anyone else, by now they would have long been overwhelmed by shame and left far, far away.
