Andre's Point of View
It was only after several long, dragging hours that Elena's sobs finally quieted, her trembling eased, and she eventually drifted off to sleep. My heart cracked all over again at the sight. Her eyelashes were still damp, her cheeks flushed from crying, and every exhale that escaped her sounded like a small break in my own chest. I had wanted her eighteenth birthday to be memorable—bright, loud, full of laughter… not this.
It was supposed to be her happy moment. Instead, she had cried herself into exhaustion. I exhaled sharply, the breath leaving me in a rush as the weight of the day settled like fire-hot stones across my spine. Today had been… a lot.
For her.
For Dylan.
For me.
For all of us.
