The ambulance sped through the dusty, gloomy streets of Denver with lights flashing and sirens blaring—a sound that carried an air of panic and fear. The vehicle seemed to fly across the asphalt at high speed, rushing to help someone in a helpless condition. For those inside, this was just another day—but not for those who trembled in fear.

The three boys stood over Elizabeth, consumed by worry and fear, watching as every hope for a reaction dimmed like a fading flame. Alexander, Michael, and Robert tried desperately to bring her back to consciousness, trying every method they could think of—gently shaking her, applying wet compresses, even murmuring what felt like desperate prayers, as if every word might pull her back from the dark place she had drifted into. But it was all in vain—Elizabeth lay motionless, struck down by an invisible yet relentless force, her face as pale as marble.

In her mind, memories surged from the long and agonizing night she had endured, fighting with every ounce of strength she had. Only she knew how unbearably heavy the pain and weakness felt, how she had gritted her teeth and tried to stay strong. But some battles are too harsh for the human body and spirit.

Robert was closest to her, unable to take his eyes off his sister's face. Genuine terror sparkled in his eyes—panic gripped him completely. The one who was always strong now felt utterly powerless, choked by the thought that he might be losing the most precious person in his life. His heart tightened with each silent second she remained still, and he secretly prayed to some unseen force: "Please, Lisa, wake up..." He wanted to hear her voice, no matter how faint, just to know that she would fight through this time, too.

At that moment, his phone started to ring—his father's name appeared on the screen. Robert had tried to reach them several times, but without success. Most likely, the late hour was making it hard to connect, only adding to his anxious torment.

"Hello, Rob?" Peter's tired voice reached Robert, sounding noticeably irritated. "For God's sake, it's four in the morning!"

"Dad, you need to come back to Denver as soon as possible!"

That sentence alone was enough to wake Peter fully and make him bolt upright from the bed—the panic in his son's voice filled him with fear. Confused, he murmured, "What happened?"

Their parents had gone to Phoenix for an important legal conference and two seminars—as lawyers, their image and continued learning were crucial to their development. They wanted to broaden their horizons and had even started taking on out-of-state cases—very few attorneys reached their level. Unfortunately, they'd been traveling quite a lot lately, often when their kids needed them the most...and couldn't be there.

"Dad, Elizabeth's not well." Robert took a deep breath, trying to dissolve the lump lodged in his throat, which seemed to choke him.

"What's wrong with her?" Peter left the bed, frantically searching for his clothes. Awoken, Hailey looked at him in fear, bewildered by the terror in her husband's eyes. Her green eyes were half-closed, dark circles casting shadows on her snow-white face.

"She fainted in the bathroom. Everything's covered in vomit, and there's a lot of blood on her nose and clothes. She's also burning up." Robert held his breath again. "I called an ambulance, but you need to come home! I told you we needed to take her to a doctor!"

"Robert, stay calm. We'll be back on the first possible flight."

Alexander stood beside the helpless Elizabeth, clutching her hand in his. Her delicate, cold palm seemed tiny, resting in his. Her breathing had quickened, causing the blond to tense in anticipation—he hoped she would wake up and realize she wasn't alone. Who knew what fear she'd felt, knowing she was alone and couldn't handle the pain that had overcome her...

Gazing at her drawn face, stained with dried blood, Alexander noticed that she was slowly starting to open her eyes. Visibly relieved, he gently began to caress her face, which grew hotter and hotter with each passing second.

"Hey, can you hear me?" His hoarse voice, softened with tenderness, broke through the silence of the room, while his fingers, gentle as a breeze, continued to stroke her skin. His gaze lingered on her face—the face that once radiated strength and light. Now, however, her beautiful eyes were bloodshot, exhausted, as though dulled by an inhuman pain. Gray shadows danced beneath them, evidence of the grueling battle she was fighting.

Elizabeth blinked slowly, trying to bring clarity back to her blurred vision. Alexander's face appeared before her, cloaked in a worry that seemed to spill like a heavy veil over his chiseled features. Despite the pain he sensed in her, his fingers, though slightly trembling, didn't stop caressing her pale skin, making her shiver from his warmth. A fragile, painful smile played on his lips, but his eyes betrayed fear.

"Alex?" Her voice was weak, weary, as if a whisper was emerging from the depths of her soul. She found herself lying on the cold bathroom tiles, with exhaustion nestled deep in her body. "What's happening?"

"You fainted," he replied, gently pulling her close, but this innocent gesture caused an instant flash of pain. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut, as if a new wave of suffering pierced her like an arrow. "Don't worry, you're not alone. Everything will be alright."

Elizabeth fought to swallow the tears welling up in her eyes, but the pain in her body intensified with each passing second. It felt as if an invisible hand was pressing down on her, and the heat from her high fever burned like a fire, eating her up from within. The sensation was unbearable—like steel wires tearing through her flesh, with the air in her lungs becoming less and less.

"Where's Robert?" she managed to murmur, trying to shift her focus away from the sharp waves of pain washing over her. Her voice was faint and drained.

"He's talking to your parents in the kitchen. Michael's waiting for the ambulance..." he began to explain, but she interrupted him.

"Please... let go of me," she whispered, as though each word scorched her from the inside. "It hurts..."

These words pierced Alexander's heart, but with tenderness, he released her from his embrace, afraid of causing her even more pain. Her body sank back onto the cold floor, and although the chill brought her brief relief, she groaned again at its sharp touch.

Elizabeth could barely hold back her emotions anymore. Tears began to stream down her pale face—tears of suffering, helplessness, and fear. They fell one after another, like heavy raindrops on a porcelain surface.

"What hurts?" Alexander whispered, his voice filled with fear and desperation. He had seen her cry before, but this pain was different, terrifying in a way that shook him to the core of his soul.

Elizabeth couldn't respond immediately. Her body was trapped in this hell—everything inside her screamed for help, but she didn't know what to do. She was utterly alone in her agony, left without strength in an empty house, where no one had heard her as the pain tore her apart.

"It feels like my whole body is burning," she sobbed, as tears flowed uncontrollably down her face. "My kidneys... they hurt terribly... and I've been vomiting all night. I'm scared... I'm so scared..."

Her voice choked with sobs, her lungs began to struggle for air, as if each breath might be her last.

"Lisa!" Robert's worried voice reached her, making her turn her head to the side with all her might. Her heart pounded aggressively in her chest at the sight of her older brother's face, filled with anxiety and panic.

"Ro" she whimpered, full of fear and despair.

"Hey, I'm here! It's alright; you're not alone!"

"I... I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't apologize for anything!" he murmured, his voice gentle as he tried to comfort her, if only a little. "Calm down, sissy; the ambulance is on its way."

Robert reached out to pull her closer into his embrace, but Alexander stopped him—he had seen how even the slightest touch brought her pain. Elizabeth, on her part, very slightly and with great effort, stretched out her hand to grasp her brother's, not taking her eyes off his. Her breathing quickened, as a wave of panic crept over her slowly but agonizingly.

The worried Michael was outside, anxiously awaiting the ambulance—the seconds stretched into minutes, feeling like hours. There wasn't a sound around except for the gusts of icy wind beating against the large, blooming trees. The night was filled with panic. The tense waiting and the unknown made everyone feel helpless and weak in the face of the circumstances.

Finally, in the distance, the loud sirens pierced the night, and blue lights began to flash through the darkness. Michael was the first to see them, and he felt something deep within him release, as if a massive burden he'd been carrying had finally been lifted. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself after the tension that had gripped him.

The ambulance screeched to a halt in front of Elizabeth and Robert's home, and even before it stopped completely, the door opened, and the medical team rushed out, ready for action. Michael met them at the door, his face still pale from shock, his hands trembling slightly from the strain. Breathless, he began stammering an explanation of what had happened and how serious Elizabeth's condition was. The medics listened carefully as they quickly checked their equipment and headed towards the scene.

"Where's the girl?" asked Nurse Bennett, and Michael pointed towards the bathroom. There, Robert and Alexander were hovering over the helpless Elizabeth, whose skin was pale and clammy.

"Hello, boys!" Nurse Bennett entered quickly and leaned over Elizabeth, who flinched at the sight of the unfamiliar woman.

"Hi there, sweetheart! What's your name?" the nurse asked gently.

"E...Elizabeth," the girl managed to whisper, her voice weak and tearful.

"Alright, Elizabeth, we're here to help you. Can you tell me exactly what you're feeling?"

"It feels like my whole body is burning." Elizabeth gritted her teeth in pain. "My kidneys hurt, I've been vomiting since last night... and my nose was bleeding a lot."

As she spoke, the medics began examining her carefully. The doctor noticed a rash on her abdomen and chest—large, reddish patches hinting at a systemic issue.

Alexander's sea-blue eyes locked onto the harsh rash—it was as if his heart shattered in that moment. His handsome face turned ghostly pale. Robert glanced at him, puzzled, but tried not to draw too much attention to it, not wanting to further alarm Elizabeth, who was quietly sobbing, clutching his hand tightly in hers.

The doctors continued their examination with care, while Nurse Bennett gave Elizabeth an encouraging look, full of warmth. Elizabeth's forest-green eyes, filled with exhaustion and fear, looked up at her with a glimmer of hope.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to touch you just to see where it hurts the most. Let me know if anything feels too painful, alright?" Nurse Bennett said softly.

Elizabeth barely nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. She was overwhelmed by fatigue and fear, and every part of her felt raw and vulnerable. As the nurse's hand gently touched her abdomen, Elizabeth flinched sharply at the contact. Red, painful-looking spots marked her pale skin, throbbing in time with her pulse as if every inch of her was alive with agony.

"No, please, no!" she moaned, her breathing quickening. "It hurts so much... my whole stomach, my chest... it's like I'm burning inside."

Nurse Bennett withdrew her hand gently, yet her gaze remained on the inflamed rash. The patches of red were glaring and seemed to radiate heat, painfully standing out against Elizabeth's pale skin. Even the slightest touch heightened her agony, and Elizabeth gritted her teeth, trying hard to keep back her tears.

The doctor observed her with intense focus. He proceeded cautiously with the examination, monitoring every change in her condition, while Nurse Bennett murmured softly, "Elizabeth, I know this is hard, but you'll only need to endure it a bit longer. We're going to do everything we can to ease your pain, but you have to stay strong just a little more."

Elizabeth nodded faintly, covering her flushed face with her hands, desperately holding back a torrent of sobs. The pain grew fiercer with each passing minute, her body feeling as if it had been thrown into a raging fire.

As waves of dizziness and nausea crept up on her again, Elizabeth's eyes slowly began to close, surrendering to the overpowering exhaustion. She drifted into unconsciousness, still clutching her brother's hand tightly.

Robert's heart clenched with worry and sorrow as Elizabeth fainted. The helplessness he felt, the inability to take her pain onto himself, gnawed at him. The medical team, however, didn't lose their composure—they were trained for such crises, knowing precisely how to act without succumbing to fear.

Yet the uncertainty, the not knowing what was wrong... it could break even the strongest of hearts.

A few agonizing hours passed – the three boys were waiting in the hospital. Michael and Alexander stayed close to Robert, who was trembling and nervously tapping his foot – ever since he was a child, he had a fear of hospitals, and now he felt trapped in a suffocating cage.

They were taking so long... far too long.

Wasn't there anyone who could come out and give them answers? What was happening behind the closed doors of this empty hospital?

"Rob, would you like to go outside?" Michael patted the worried boy on the shoulder, but Robert didn't respond at all, as if he hadn't even heard his friend's voice. His mind was a tangled mess – his head ached terribly from the tension, as though it was about to burst.

And still, everything felt so surreal, and deep down, he prayed it was all just a nightmare...

"Dr. McLaren, thank you for responding!" a quiet but desperate-sounding female voice echoed faintly, barely reaching the three boys huddled in the waiting room. The voice was weak and tired, as though she herself had been drained of energy in her quest to find help.

Alexander, absorbed in his own thoughts and fears, jolted when he heard the doctor's name. Startled, he looked up and quickly scanned the hallway, his eyes instantly focusing on a familiar figure approaching swiftly.

Walking with a stride hurried by worry and fatigue, his father Alexei barely noticed the other people passing by. His face was pale and tense, with an unusual hint of uncertainty in his eyes – a quality Alexander had rarely, if ever, seen in his father. Though strong and always confident, Alexei at this moment appeared vulnerable and weary.

"Why is my father here?" — the thought struck Alexander like lightning. Just a day ago, his parents had traveled to Loveland for a short, long-awaited romantic getaway, hoping to escape the worries of daily life and grant themselves a few peaceful moments. Away from the cares and hustle, Loveland had promised an escape from everything – or so they'd told him. But now, in this endless hospital night, Alexei stood before his son, having broken the fragile peace of his vacation, as if driven by an unclear force or worry that had given him no rest.

"Dad?" the blond-haired boy stood up from his chair, facing his father. Visible surprise spread across the face of the exhausted man as he noticed his son and his worried, exhausted friends. Seeing trembling Robert, who seemed to hear nothing around him, he muttered, 

"What are you doing here? Did you kill someone at that party, for heaven's sake?!"

"Dad..."

Alexei moved through the corridor with a hurried, nervous gait. Each step weighed heavily on him, making him feel the panic rising in his stomach, tightening around him more and more. The moment his gaze fell on the boys waiting by the wall, something like a lump formed in his throat. The sudden worry intensified, spreading like lava in his chest.

Robert, leaning against the wall, let his head fall back, taking a deep, trembling breath. The terrible headache that wouldn't leave him was exhausting him to the extreme; his eyelids felt heavy, but he fought to keep them open. The tension wouldn't let him relax and believe that everything would be alright – not until he heard specific words from the doctors.

"We'll talk later, Alexander!" Alexei said sharply, almost automatically, as he passed by his son. His words were brief but weighed down with unmasked concern. He followed the nurse, fists clenched to the point of pain, as if the feeling of helplessness wouldn't withdraw until he understood what had happened. The sense that something had gone wrong at the party haunted him – something that shattered his peace and left him in a state of tension he had long tried to fend off.

Alexander, silent and tense, also couldn't find peace. He understood his father, perhaps better than he wished. Quietly, in a voice that seemed he didn't even want to hear himself, he whispered, 

"She had the same rashes as Mom."

The words slipped from his lips lightly, almost imperceptibly, but they were like a sharp knife stabbing directly into Alexei's soul. He froze, as if time had stopped, and slowly turned to look at his son. In Alexander's eyes, cloudy and heavy with pain, there was something unusual – an understanding and an inexpressible worry that made him look vulnerable, a state Alexei had never seen in him. Tears shimmered in the boy's eyes, ready to spill over, but he held them back with the same determination he used to try to stay strong.

Alexei's heart jumped, then began to beat faster, heavy with dread and the helplessness he couldn't shake off.

"What... what?" he whispered, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Elizabet was covered in rashes... just like Mom," the young boy's voice trembled slightly from fear, but he held back, refusing to let the fear and terrible memories overwhelm him again.

"Pray that you're wrong!" Alexei said in a strong, almost commanding tone. His voice sliced through the tension in the corridor, echoing between the walls like a sharp warning. "Just pray!"

The words spoken were heavy, soaked in despair, and his gaze, firm and filled with fear, lingered for a moment on Alexander's face before he turned and hurried after the nurse. There was no time to waste – something deep inside him prodded at him, piercing and relentless, a ball of anxiety and ignorance that stabbed at him like an icy thorn. His heart was in a whirlwind of emotions, but he tried to subdue them, not allowing panic to engulf him completely.

In the silence that followed those words, Michael quickly crouched down beside Robert, who was leaning against the wall, tense and looking as pale as a canvas.

"Robert, you look pale," Michael said quietly, concern in his eyes. "Let's get you something to eat, maybe some water or..."

"I can't leave; I can't leave her alone," Robert whispered, his voice almost inaudible, but heavy with so much pain and fear that Michael felt his own heart constrict.

"She's not alone," he replied confidently and encouragingly. "Just relax, take deep breaths. I'm here, and so is Alexander."

Alexander settled down next to Robert, pulling him into an embrace filled with compassion and friendship. He himself was frightened, shaken by the thoughts and memories crashing over him, but he couldn't allow his best friend to remain engulfed in despair and fear.

"I'll stay with you," Alexander said gently, trying to impose calm on his trembling soul. "Michael will go get you something. You're not alone, and she's not alone. Just try to relax and breathe."

The words were light and warm, but Robert did not respond. He stood still, as if his soul had frozen in that hospital foyer, clinging to the anticipation of news, of answers. It was as if he were petrified, not hearing the comforting words of his friends, as if they could not break through the wall of fear and anxiety that consumed him.

Michael stood up, threw one last encouraging glance at them, and walked down the corridor to get some water and something to eat. Each of his steps sounded quiet yet purposeful, just like his words echoed in Robert's mind.

Alexander stayed close to him, feeling how his friend struggled to cope with the sensation of helplessness. He grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to convey some warmth and calmness that he himself also needed to feel. But their friendship, their bond, supported him, giving him the strength to find something within himself.

"Just breathe," Alexander whispered again, his voice warm and steady, "and know that we are here together."

Robert leaned against Alexander's shoulder, taking a deep breath—despite everything, he was grateful that his friends were there and weren't leaving, even though it was hard for them to endure. All three of them were scared, but together everything seemed easier, more bearable.

Several more difficult hours passed.

Numerous tests and examinations, including a biopsy, had been performed. Robert's and Elizabeth's parents had arrived after a difficult journey from Phoenix and were anxiously awaiting the results. Robert stood close to them, painfully scared but also extremely angry at his parents.

"How many times did I tell you, Mom? 'Let's take her to the doctor.' It's not just the flu! None of you listened to me, just like always!"

Robert let his emotions take over—he very rarely allowed himself to unleash his anger, let alone on the people who had given him life. He felt misunderstood; his constant pleas had gone unheard or had been ignored, erased by empty hopes. Even Elizabeth herself, as frightened as she was by the symptoms, tried to deceive herself into thinking everything was fine and that all this pain was temporary, neglecting her health.

"A thousand times! Does every problem, whatever it may be, have to be ignored until something bad happens?!" the brunette raised his voice, completely losing his composure. His face was flushed with anger but also consumed by fatigue.

"Rob, don't take it out on them." Alexander moved closer to him to pull him into an embrace, but the angry boy stepped back. Without taking his eyes off his parents, he continued his thought, which flowed like electricity through his mind: "I come home, and it's like there's not a living soul inside! I find Elizabeth passed out, covered in blood and vomit!" He clutched his head. "Do you know what I felt at that moment?!"

"Robert, stop!" Peter stepped closer, cupping his son's face with his warm hands. "Calm down, we're here!"

"Do you know what I felt in that fucking moment, Dad?!" the brunette repeated his words, raising his voice another octave. "You don't know!"

"Come on, let's step outside, you need to breathe! It's okay, we're all here," the father whispered in a gentle, encouraging tone, continuing to hold his son's face in his warm hands. The father's brown eyes met the boy's forest-green eyes, filled with fear and exhaustion—a silent exchange of glances that expressed more than words, an invisible thread connecting both of them in this difficult moment.

"Guys, just go!" Haley's voice rose in a desperate plea. Her hands trembled as she wiped the bitter tears from her face while focusing her attention on Michael and Alexander. They looked at her with deep compassion and sympathy, as if trying to bear part of her pain to ease it. Alexander flinched, catching the bitterness that filled her weary face, and the feeling shook him—this woman was part of his second family. Watching her in such a moment, in such a terrible and difficult time, was like a shattering storm, a whirlwind of sadness and helplessness that left deep marks on his heart.

"How can we leave when..."

"Alex, just go," she interrupted him, her voice barely restrained in the tension of her uncontrollable crying. "We're here. Don't stay here any longer.

Alexander sighed heavily, feeling despondent. The scene before him was like a poisoned wound that could not be healed, and his soul burned in silent despair. He stepped toward Haley and gently pulled her into a warm, soothing embrace. In his arms, she trembled, as if she carried a weight that was tearing her apart from the inside, and this fragility touched the deepest corners of his heart.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, feeling her frail figure shudder, as if each breath exhausted her. He tried to convey some hope, some warmth that could soothe the tearing pain within her. As he stood there, close to her, he could feel her heartbeat—slow and uneven—as if every thump was a desperate call for comfort. He squeezed her lightly, without words, just presence, trying to pour all his strength and compassion into that one touch, to show her that in this moment, she was not alone.

"Everything will be alright," the blond murmured softly, a hint of hope in his almost whispering voice. Turning to the weary Michael, he said, "Let's go! Let's leave them!"

Michael nodded in agreement, and together with Alexander, they headed toward the hospital exit—around them was a storm of human voices and the suffocating smell of medicine and sorrow, of tension. Their hearts thudded aggressively in their chests—all emotions had piled up within them like a volcano ready to erupt.

What had happened? Each of them asked themselves this question, but no one could find an answer.

The blond Alexander walked slowly home, step by step, lost in his thoughts. He wanted to sort out his confused mind, to calm the storm that was tearing him apart inside. The wind whistled softly around him, cool and fresh, and he relished the sensation of the cool air brushing against his face, as if trying to carry away some of the weight he bore. Immersed in the silence of his own thoughts, Alexander decided to take a stroll through the city, seeking a little solace in the familiar streets.

The city had already awakened for another day—cars rumbled along the bustling streets, horns blared in an endless melody, and passing pedestrians hurried toward their daily tasks. Despite the usual noise surrounding him, Alexander felt as though he was walking in his own world, alone and isolated. The sounds around him were mere background noise, insignificant and distant, as he sought peace within his own mind.

He stopped at a small square where fountains whispered softly, and pigeons fluttered lazily about. He looked at the water sparkling in the sunlight and, for a moment—just a moment—allowed his thoughts to quiet. The tranquility of the scene enveloped him like a light, warm blanket, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He began to recall his mother—the sight of Elizabeth's rashes lingered in his mind, filling him again with anxiety. Memories of his mother danced through his consciousness, wrapping his heart in sadness once more.

He knew that this moment of silence would be brief, that reality would catch up to him again, but despite that, he remained there for a few more minutes. These peaceful moments were necessary for him—like a breath of air from which to draw strength for everything that lay ahead.