"The doctors say he doesn’t have much time left. Just a few hours, maybe a day."

Emma’s legs wobbled, and Azalea caught her, keeping her steady.

"I know this is a lot to take in, but I wanted you to see him."

Emma was shaking. "I... I don’t understand. He was fine. Zayn said—"

"Zayn was just trying to protect you. We all were."

Tears streamed down Emma’s face, and Azalea squeezed her hands.

"There’s more. After you see him, I need to tell you something about who your dad really is."

Emma looked up, confused. "What?"

"First, go see him, then we’ll talk, okay?"

Emma nodded weakly. Azalea led her to the ICU doors, pushed them open, and walked her down a plain hallway to a room, Room 304.

Azalea stopped outside the room. "He’s in here. Just take your time."

Emma stared at the door, feeling stuck and confused.

Azalea gave her shoulder a gentle touch. "Go on."

Taking a deep breath, Emma pushed the door open, entered the room, and froze.

Alexander was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by all kinds of tubes, wires, and machines.

The ventilator was hissing away, doing the breathing for him.

His face looked pale and hollow, and his eyes were closed. He looked... almost lifeless.

Emma’s hands flew to her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks, but she couldn’t make a sound. She just stood there, staring, unable to wrap her head around what she was seeing.

Finally, she moved, walking slowly to the bedside. She reached out and took his hand; It was warm... but it didn’t feel alive. Emma lifted his hand and pressed it to her face as her tears fell.

Then she whispered, "Dad, I knew it. I just knew something had happened to you."

Her voice cracked.

"I had this nightmare. You were bleeding and calling out for me, but I... I couldn’t get to you."

She squeezed his hand tight.

"But I’m here now. I’m right here."

The ventilator continued hissing, but Alexander didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Emma took a seat in the chair next to the bed, holding his hand in both of hers.

"I don’t know if you can hear me, but you need to know... I love you. You raised me, took care of me, and were always there for me."

She paused, her voice breaking completely.

"I’m not ready to lose you."

Leaning forward, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the machine breathe as she cried. Ten minutes went by, maybe longer, when suddenly the door opened. Azalea stepped in quietly.

"Emma."

Emma didn’t look up.

"Emma, we need to talk."

Slowly, Emma lifted her head, wiped her eyes, and stood up. She followed Azalea out into the waiting area.

Azalea guided her to a bench and handed her a bottle of water. Emma drank it automatically, not paying attention to anything around her, not even noticing Zayn in the corner, leaning against the wall, waiting. Azalea sat next to her and took her hands again.

"Emma, what I’m about to tell you is going to change everything. You really need to listen."

Emma stared at Azalea, feeling numb. Azalea took a deep breath.

"Alexander Kane isn’t actually your real dad."

The silence stretched on. Emma blinked. "I know," she said.

"Your actual parents worked for Michael Arthur. They were killed when you were just a month old. Alexander adopted you because Michael told him to."

Emma shook her head. "No way, that can’t be right. He said my parents died in a car accident, but he never mentioned—"

"He lied."

Azalea pulled out her phone, opened a file, and showed Emma a picture of a young couple smiling with a baby.

"This is your real family."

Emma stared at the photo. The woman had her eyes; the man had her nose. Azalea swiped to another photo, death certificates. Emma’s hands started shaking. Azalea carried on.

"Your mom was killed by Alexander. He also worked for Michael Arthur, who goes by Alpha Dark, a big deal in trafficking. Your parents were mixed up with him, but after you were born, they wanted out of that life. They had info that Alpha didn’t want out there. So, he ordered Alexander to take them out."

Emma felt a tightness in her chest, struggling to breathe.

"Alexander killed your parents and made it look like an accident."

Azalea’s voice was calm, but her eyes were kind.

"After they died, Alexander took you in and raised you like his own. Maybe it was out of guilt or just following orders. We don’t really know."

Emma shook her head over and over.

"No. No, this can’t be true, he would never—"

"I’m really sorry, Emma. But it is true."

Azalea showed her more documents: reports, evidence, testimonies, each one was hard to face but real. Emma looked on, trying to process everything, trying to make sense of it all.

Just as Azalea was about to say more, a voice interrupted.

"That’s enough, Azalea."

Zayn came over and knelt in front of Emma.

"The rest can wait. She’s had enough for today."

Azalea nodded and stepped back to give them some space.

Zayn sat down beside Emma, pulling her into his arms. She leaned against him, burying her face in his chest and sobbing, deep, wrenching, broken cries. Zayn held her tightly, one hand cradling her head and the other wrapping around her waist.

"I’m here for you," he said softly. "I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay."

He kept kissing her hair over and over.

"Just breathe. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

Emma held onto him like he was the only thing holding her up in a world falling apart.

Everyone else looked away, giving them some space. Azalea stood off to the side with her arms crossed, watching.

Zayn caught her glance and silently mouthed, "Thanks."

Azalea nodded back.

She had done what she had to do; she told the truth, even if it hurt Emma. Emma needed to know, understand, and figure out on her own how to feel about Alexander, her parents, and everything else.

Zayn kept holding Emma, running his fingers through her hair and whispering comforting words. Slowly, really slowly, her sobs calmed down, and her breathing got easier. She pulled back just a little and looked up at him, her eyes red and her face puffy.

"What should I do?" she asked quietly.

Zayn gently held her face. "Do whatever you feel like. If you want to see him again, we can do that. If you want to leave, we’ll leave. If you want to scream, cry, or break stuff... I’ll be there. Whatever you need, I’ve got you."

Emma looked into his eyes and saw only love, support, and certainty. She nodded and leaned her forehead against his.

"I need you."

"You have me. Always."

He kissed her softly, then pulled her back into his arms, and they sat together.

In the ICU waiting room, with machines humming in the background, they held onto each other.

And for now... that was enough.

Alexander Kane didn’t survive the day.

*****

2 days later

Emma was sitting on a wooden bench in the third row from the front. She had She was dressed in all black.

Her face was blank, no tears, no smiles, just emptiness.

The funeral was done, the service wrapped up, and the burial finished.

Alexander Kane was buried in the cemetery behind the church, under a gray stone with his name and dates carved right into it.

There wasn’t a flowery tribute, just the basics—his birth and death. That was it.

People had left one by one, offering condolences that Emma didn’t really hear. They touched her shoulder in sympathy, but she didn’t feel it.

She kept nodding, again and again. Yes. Thanks. Yes. I appreciate it. Yes.

But she wasn’t fully there. Her body went through the motions, but her mind was off somewhere else, lost, trying to figure out the impossible.

Alexander Kane was her dad. He raised her, loved her, and looked out for her. But he was also a murderer. He had killed her real parents, torn her family apart, and then adopted her, bringing her up as his own.

How was she supposed to feel?

Should she cry because he was gone? Or should she feel a sense of relief?

Should she miss the man who raised her... or hate the one who destroyed her life?