The hospital lights were harsh and white. The air was heavy with the sharp scent of antiseptic.
Behind the closed doors of the emergency room, the red warning light blinked rhythmically — a cruel reminder that life and death were in a tug of war.
Manida sat slumped against the cold wall, clutching Parin's bloodstained coat. Her glasses fogged with tears; her vision blurred, but she didn't dare blink — afraid that if she did, she would lose her forever.
"Please… save her," she whispered hoarsely, her usual grace and calm utterly gone.
After what felt like eternity, the red light finally went out. The doctor emerged, face heavy.
"The patient is temporarily stable, but her body is extremely weak. We can't guarantee how long she'll last."
Manida's chest seized painfully. She stumbled into the room.
Parin lay there quietly, the oxygen tube tracing her pale face.
Manida reached for her hand — cold, almost lifeless.
"Lin…" Her voice trembled. "You promised you'd stay with me until the end. Why are you breaking your promise?"
Parin slowly opened her eyes, faint but lucid. A tiny smile tugged at her lips.
"I didn't break it… I stayed… until we found the truth, didn't I?"
Tears streamed freely down Manida's face. She choked out, "I don't want the truth. I just want you."
Parin lifted her trembling hand to touch Manida's cheek, her voice thin as air.
"Then live… live for me."
Manida shook her head violently. "No! I can't live without you!"
Parin exhaled slowly, her words fading like wind:
"You must… live… for the both of us…"
Her voice dissolved into silence.
The night deepened; the stars vanished behind clouds.
Manida held her hand, tears dripping one by one onto Parin's cold palm.
Somewhere deep down, she knew — fate had already made its choice.
Yet she refused to let go.
That night, no one slept.
And Manida's heart was torn in two.