Chapter 12: The Last Apology

Axel POV:

The first symptom was exhaustion.

At first, I blamed stress.

Then came the headaches.

The dizziness.

The nausea.

Within weeks, I could barely make it through a full shift at the hospital.

"You need to rest," one of the doctors told me.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

But I ignored them.

Because there were more important things to worry about.

Ember.

The truth.

The damage I had helped create.

Every investigation uncovered something worse.

Every report added another layer to the nightmare.

Willow had forged documents.

Altered records.

Manipulated prescriptions.

Lied repeatedly.

And I had signed everything.

I had trusted her.

I had defended her.

Worst of all...

I had accused Ember.

The guilt was unbearable.

One evening, Ryker stormed into my office carrying a folder.

His face was pale with fury.

"It's confirmed."

"What is?"

"Everything."

He threw the folder onto my desk.

Photographs.

Bank records.

Emails.

Forged medical requests.

There was no denying it anymore.

Willow was responsible.

For all of it.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Gone."

"What?"

"I threw her out."

Silence.

"You what?"

"The moment she confessed."

My chest tightened.

"She confessed?"

"Not intentionally."

"But she admitted enough."

Ryker sat heavily in the chair across from me.

He looked older.

Tired.

Broken.

"She hated Ember."

"I know."

"She was jealous."

"I know."

"And we let her destroy our sister."

Neither of us spoke.

Because there was nothing left to say.

The damage was done.

The next morning, I collapsed.

One moment I was reviewing patient files.

The next, I was on the floor.

Everything went black.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

"Multiple organ complications," the specialist explained.

"Your body is shutting down."

"Can you fix it?"

The silence answered for him.

I stared at the ceiling.

For years, I saved strangers.

Now nobody could save me.

Maybe that was justice.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

My condition worsened rapidly.

Ryker rarely left my side.

Neither of us mentioned Ember anymore.

The name hurt too much.

One night, I finally broke the silence.

"Do you think she hates us?"

Ryker laughed bitterly.

"Wouldn't you?"

"Probably."

"Definitely."

The room fell quiet again.

"I want to see her."

Ryker looked away.

"I know."

"Just once."

"I know."

"I need to apologize."

"I know."

His voice cracked.

"But she won't answer my calls."

That hurt.

Not because she ignored us.

Because she had every right to.

Three days later, the doctors moved me into intensive care.

The machines multiplied.

The medications increased.

The prognosis worsened.

I knew what it meant.

I was dying.

One evening, Ryker entered the room holding his phone.

His eyes were red.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I found her."

My heart stopped.

"Ember?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"The Shadowlands."

Of course.

Only Derek Nightshade could hide someone this completely.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No."

"Derek answered."

"And?"

"He almost hung up immediately."

For some reason, that felt fair.

"Please," I whispered.

"Try again."

Ryker looked at me for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

That night, he made another call.

And another.

And another.

Finally, someone answered.

Not Derek.

Ember.

I couldn't hear the conversation.

But I saw the tears running down Ryker's face.

I saw the desperation.

The regret.

The grief.

When the call ended, he sat beside my bed.

"Well?" I asked.

"She didn't forgive us."

The words hurt.

But not as much as the next sentence.

"She's coming anyway."

My eyes filled instantly.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Ryker looked away.

"I think she wants closure."

Closure.

Not reconciliation.

Not forgiveness.

Closure.

I understood.

The next two days were a blur.

Machines.

Doctors.

Pain.

Regret.

On the third night, my condition deteriorated rapidly.

The doctors rushed in and out of the room.

Voices echoed around me.

Everything felt distant.

Faded.

I could barely keep my eyes open.

"Hold on," Ryker whispered.

"She's coming."

I nodded weakly.

For the first time in years, I prayed.

Not for healing.

Not for survival.

Just for one more chance.

One chance to look my sister in the eyes.

One chance to tell her I was sorry.

One chance to admit that she deserved better.

Much better.

The clock on the wall read 2:57 AM.

Outside, snow began falling heavily.

The storm intensified.

Somewhere beyond the darkness, beyond the miles separating us, Ember was coming.

And for the first time since she left...

I allowed myself to hope.