Page 25 of Inheritance

“Yeah. He used to have bad days. But this…” I gestured after him. “This is new.”

“He didn’t even know who I was for a moment.”

Her brow furrowed. Her eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite place—pity maybe.

“I didn’t know it was this bad. Gabriel, if he’s deteriorating this quickly…”

She stepped closer, her hand landing on my arm. It looked small there. Fragile.

“You don’t have to deal with this alone, Gabriel. I’m here.”

I let out a slow breath, jaw tightening.

I started down the hallway.

She slipped past me, blocking my path.

“Don’t do that. Don’t run away from me. You can’t carry all of this by yourself. No one can.”

“I’m not running away from you.”

A loud crash shattered the air.

From his room.

I moved fast. Sophia close behind me.

I burst through the door.

A lamp lay shattered on the floor, its bulb flickering—off, then on. Off. Then on. The room strobing in and out of shadow.

My father stood in the center, cane discarded, hands trembling around a framed photograph.

“Bianca,” he said, voice raw. Desperate.

A breath escaped me. I stepped deeper into the room. Flipped the light switch. Yanked the lamp’s cord from the wall.

“Father,” I said, softly, Moving closer.

He didn’t respond.

“Hey.”

Still nothing.

“Dad. It’s me. Gabriel. Your son.”

He turned toward me. His face lit up, hopeful—then twisted, confused, and angry.

“Gabriel? Gabriel’s just a boy,” he shouted, looking around the room. “She was just here, she—” His voice cracked. He clutched the frame tighter. The wood creaked under his grip.

Sophia stayed at the door, pale and still, hands clasped in front of her.

I moved closer slowly, voice low and steady.

“Dad. It’s okay. You’re safe. Let me help you.”

For a moment, his eyes found mine. Searching. Recognizing.