Daylight seeped in gray and hazy. The storm had passed overnight.
By the third morning, relief flickered: if the storm was gone, rescue might not be far behind. Outside, they heard faint mechanical sounds — distant sirens and the low thump of heavy machinery. Callum quietly heated water on a small burner from the emergency kit found in the closet.
He carried the steaming cup back to her. Dahlia opened her eyes. The armature's morning light cast long shadows. She noticed Callum holding out the mug, his expression unreadable. "Lukewarm?" he offered, almost shyly. It was the first time in days he'd made eye contact.
"Thank you," she replied softly, taking the cup.
He didn't sit at first, but stood while Dahlia sipped. A strange, fragile peace hung between them. Finally, Callum eased to the floor by the door, his back on the frame. Dahlia noticed a small set of pens and paper left beside the bed, it's a sketch of possible exits.
Nervous, Dahlia crawled off the bed and sat beside him, legs folded underneath. His knees blocked her path. She stretched across to reach him.
"Callum…" she said softly. He said nothing, just stared at his ring.
One of Dahlia's hair tresses brushed against him, and he didn't flinch away. Emboldened, she leaned forward, placing a trembling hand on his. He jerked slightly under her touch.
Dahlia closed the gap. "One kiss. That's all I want," she boldly asked, a fresh hope in her voice. "Just one."
Callum turned his face away, voice steady but cold. "And what then?" he asked quietly. "What about Seraphine? What about Frederick? What about everything that ended between us?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "I'd figure it out. We'd get through it…"
Callum stood abruptly. The mug rattled on the floor. "You and I had our story," he said. His voice was calm but sharp as a knife. "It ended. It's already impossible to rewrite it. Because we had vows that are more worthy than this fleeting agony."
The space between them felt huge. Dahlia's eyes fell. Ashamed, she pulled her knees up, rocking slightly. "I understand," she whispered, voice breaking.
She missed him so much that it hurt- painfully enough, clouding her morality.
Callum knelt to pick up the coffee mug, snapped the hot liquid inside. He took a sip — barely warm, now cold. Then he focused back on the corridor. Outside, the distant rescue sounds grew louder. The flickering light came and went as a beam from rescue crews occasionally cast through the open door. Dahlia wiped her eyes, watching him.
Part of her admired his resolve.
It's as if his back reminds her of her last fairytale.
---
Morning broke fully on the fourth day. Silhouettes of rescuers moved beyond the doorway as dawn filtered in. A steady banging and scraping at the corridor walls grew louder — it wasn't imagination. Emergency teams had finally made progress clearing the collapsed ceiling.
Dahlia stiffened. "Callum…" she said, voice urgent. "Listen."
He let her talk. Outside, muffled voices echoed in relief. A knock sounded on the sturdy corridor door. "Mr. Virell! Mrs. Virell!" a voice shouted, distant but urgent through the wall.
"Sir, over here!" Callum's heart lurched.
Dahlia clapped her hands in disbelief. "They know we're here!"
A moment later, a heavy boot hammered at the door. The exit was covered by debris and resisted at first. Then, with a final heave, the rescue workers pushed it inward. The bright light flooded in. A pair of paramedics and a structural engineer stood in the doorway.
The engineer was a large man in a hard hat, clipboard tucked under his arm. "Room 314?" the engineer asked hoarsely. "Callum Virell? Dahlia – Virell? I'm Engineer Liu, and you've been lucky — the building's still standing."
Callum's legs nearly collapsed with relief. Paramedics in red jackets rushed in. One paramedic, Elena, took off her helmet and stepped close to Dahlia.
"We've got you," Elena said softly. She examined Dahlia's arm. "I see you've already done a good job dressing it, but let's get some fresh supplies on that wound."
Another paramedic, Marcus, moved to Callum. He palpated Callum's back carefully. "How's the spine, brother-in-law?" he asked gently.
Callum winced, but said, "I'm okay." Marcus nodded. "We'll get you both out safely. We've cleared a path to the stairs."
Outside, through the cracked curtains, Callum saw excavation lights and people running hoses of stabilizing foam into the collapses. A ladder leaned against the stairwell. Somewhere, a fire engine siren wailed in support and a police unit had set up a perimeter outside. A young rescue worker with a sniffer dog approached. The dog sniffed Callum, tail wagging. The worker smiled.
Callum only managed a nod. He was too dizzy to say more.
Engineer Liu put a large arm around the paramedic. "We're moving one wall section. It should open up the emergency exit." He turned to Dahlia. "When you step out, we'll catch you. Use the railing."
Callum patted Dahlia's shoulder tentatively. "We should go," he urged, tears in her eyes again. She looked at him, broken, hopeful.
Callum nodded and motioned for her to go first. The ladder and stairs creaked, but they held. Step by careful step, Dahlia climbed down into daylight, supported by two rescuers. Behind her, Callum followed slowly, wincing at each movement.
Once outside the old wing, Dahlia was immediately given a neck brace and stabilized on a stretcher. Paramedic Elena wrapped Dahlia's shoulders in a blanket.
Marcus helped Callum with a cervical collar and a shoulder harness while saying, "Brother-in-law, my sister's on the way."
Then, a rescuer waiting below had cut the harness off Callum's back. His lower shirt was torn from where he had pressed himself against the door.
Callum saw the ICU paramedic handing Dahlia a silver bracelet – it was his gift, still intact. Dahlia started as if in a dream. She tried to smile bravely.
However, the newly down, Marcus, snapped Callum's presence by moving his face close to him- almost kissing him.
"Brother-in-law!" Marcus loudly, but not a shout.
Callum pushed his face away and said, "Are you so worried about me that you forgot to brush?"
Marcus grinned.
In silent tribute to the storm's devastation, birds gathered in the newly quiet sky. But then his gaze returned to Dahlia. She lay on the stretcher, her makeshift bandage more secure now, but her eyes full of pain and apology. Callum walks four steps closer. But, he paused, body trembling with emotion he'd withheld for days.
Dahlia's breath hitched. "She… she's waiting for you?" she choked out. Callum nodded and took a shaky breath. "And he...he is waiting for you also." His words hung in the air between them.
She closed her eyes, heart aching, and nodded slightly. Finally, he smiled and stepped back.
A rescuer gently guided Dahlia into the ambulance. Callum turned and walked toward the other ambulance, where Marcus was.
As the squad wrapped him in a blanket and prepared a stretcher, he took one last glance at Dahlia. In that fleeting moment, he found the conclusion.
---
Callum found himself alone in a hospital room.
Seconds later, Marcus came in.
"Brother-in-law, how are you feeling?"
Sunlight streamed through the window. Marcus handed him a small paper cup of water and his charged phone.
Callum held the water cup absentmindedly and found his gaze shifting to the phone. The no-signal icon no longer glared. His thumb hovered over the screen.
On an impulse, he unlocked it and scrolled through messages. There it was... Seraphine's last text.
"I'll be home soon."