"I am here."
Ulrich's body tensed again as the physicians continued.
But this time, he did not fight them.
He held back the sounds of pain behind clenched teeth.
Yet his eyes remained on Ashara.
He did not look away from her.
Then something shifted in his eyes.
His gaze moved past Ashara.
His expression changed.
The room began to disappear from him.
Not completely.
He could still hear the physicians speaking. He could still feel the ache in his body. He could still sense Ashara's hand in his hair.
But memories rose through the haze.
Not memories of Silas.
His own memories.
He saw himself as a child.
He saw the long halls of the Rubenhart Estate before they had become full of voices. He saw his mother smiling at him. He remembered the warmth of her hand in his. He remembered believing, in those brief early years, that nothing could ever take her away.
Then the memory changed.
His mother was sick, cursed to a painful, agonizing death.
