Chapter 226: A Fragile Connection
Cormac took a slow, deliberate step forward. For a brief moment, a wave of relief washed over him as he stood at the edge of the rooftop. The city below seemed so far away, so detached from his pain. He tilted his head back, inhaled deeply, and leaned further forward.
“Hey!”
The sudden voice behind him made Cormac jump. He spun around, his heart racing, to see Aurora standing there, looking small and hesitant. Her eyes dropped to the ground, and she bit her lip nervously. The early morning breeze made her seem even more fragile, like a delicate flower ready to break.
“What are you doing here?” Cormac was shocked. Had she been following him all this time? He hadn’t noticed her at all, and he’d been on the rooftop for quite a while. Had she been there the entire time?
“I followed you… I wanted to return your things.” Aurora’s voice trembled as she held out the watch and phone he had given her earlier.
She hadn’t dared approach him before, not when she saw how troubled he was. But now, she seemed determined to return the items, as if she feared they might be a burden.
Seeing her holding the watch and phone made Cormac’s chest tighten. Children, he thought, had the purest hearts. They never wanted anything in return, only to do what felt right.
“I told you, those are gifts,” Cormac said gently.
“They’re yours; I can’t keep them.” Aurora took a step closer, her small hands trembling as she reached out to him.
Seeing her so determined, Cormac instinctively moved back from the edge, though he didn’t realize he had been standing so close to it until she spoke. “Come over here. It’s dangerous,” she said, her voice filled with concern.
Aurora carefully approached and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back from the edge. It felt like a little angel had saved him from a fate he hadn’t fully realized he was heading toward.
Did Aurora understand what he had been about to do? Her timing felt almost uncanny, but then again, perhaps her presence on the rooftop wasn’t a coincidence after all.
She stuffed the watch and phone back into his hand, her small fingers brushing against his palm. Cormac felt an unexpected warmth spread through him as he gripped the items.
“It’s late… You should go home. Your family will worry,” Cormac said softly, trying to steer the conversation away from the heavy moment.
But to his surprise, Aurora shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “My dad died… No one’s looking for me.”
Her words hit Cormac like a punch to the gut. She was so young, so innocent, yet she had already faced the unimaginable. Losing a father at such an age—did she have no one else? Was she truly all alone now?
Moved by an overwhelming sense of sorrow, Cormac gently pulled Aurora into a hug. His arms encircled her, offering comfort as best as he could. “Let me take you home.”
He reached for her hand, but Aurora shrank back slightly. Cormac stopped, holding his breath, then reassured her softly, “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”
After a moment, Aurora seemed to relax and let him take her hand as they walked down from the rooftop together.
On the Walk Home…
“Why aren’t you home so late?” Aurora asked, her voice small as she glanced up at him.
“I don’t have a home anymore,” Cormac replied quietly. The truth was bitter, and the weight of it felt heavier with every step he took.
“So… you’re like me?” Aurora’s voice was tentative. “I only had my dad. Do you only have a sister?”
Cormac smiled bitterly, the pain in his eyes evident. “I used to have everything. Now I have nothing.”
Aurora fell silent as they continued walking. Cormac couldn’t help but admire her strength, how she seemed to understand loss in ways most children never would.
He walked her all the way to her doorstep. “Alright, go home now,” he said gently, feeling the weight of his own helplessness.
But as he turned to leave, Aurora grabbed his hand tightly, as though she were afraid he might vanish if she let go. “You said you don’t have a home… Where will you go?”
Cormac froze, his heart heavy. He didn’t have an answer. He truly didn’t know.
Aurora, without saying another word, held his hand firmly and led him into her tiny house. Cormac was taken aback. Was she really inviting him in?
“Aren’t you afraid I’m a bad person?” he asked quietly, though he didn’t really believe she would think that.
Aurora shook her head with surprising confidence. “You’re not a bad person.”
She led him inside and pointed to an old, well-worn sofa. “My dad used to sleep here,” she said, her voice soft and matter-of-fact. “Our sofa is magical—it can turn into a bed.”
Cormac watched as she skillfully unfolded the old sofa, making a small bed with the ease of someone who had done it many times before.
“You can sleep here,” she said, her tone a mixture of kindness and practicality.
As Cormac looked around, he saw the modest space. Was it just her living in the bedroom? Had her dad slept here before?
After making the bed, Aurora stood in front of it, her small body still trembling slightly. Cormac, for a moment, hesitated, but then his concern for her overpowered his own internal turmoil.
“Now that you’re an orphan… What will you do?” he asked gently, his voice laced with empathy.
Aurora looked up at him, her eyes filled with a quiet strength. “I don’t have any plans. I’ve already taken care of my dad’s funeral. I’ll go back to school tomorrow.”
Aurora had arranged her father’s funeral by herself? And now she was going back to school? Cormac couldn’t help but be amazed by her resilience. Despite the tears she had shed in private, she was facing tomorrow with a calm determination.
“My dad was sick for many years,” Aurora continued, her voice steady. “I knew he would leave me eventually. He always told me to live a good life because some people fight to live, but they can’t. He was sick, couldn’t afford treatment, and kept working. He told me that if he ever left, I should live well. There are many good people in the world who would help me finish high school.”
Her words struck Cormac deeply. Her father had known what was coming, and yet he had still tried to prepare her for the world after he was gone. How had Cormac, an adult, failed to be as strong as she was? She had endured so much hardship and yet remained so composed.
“He always said I should be ready for anything,” Aurora continued, her eyes distant. “I thought he would die from his illness, not from that car accident.”
At that moment, Cormac felt tears welling up in his eyes. It was the first time since he had lost Ravenna and Orion that he felt like crying. Aurora’s strength was both humbling and heartbreaking.
He pulled her into another gentle hug, unable to keep the sorrow in. “Yes, your dad was right. We should live a good life. You’re amazing… truly amazing.”
Aurora looked up at him, her eyes bright despite the sadness. “So you have to live bravely too. My dad said that when people die, they become stars in the sky. Even though your family isn’t with you, they can see you every night. If they see you happy, they’ll be happy too.”
Cormac’s chest tightened, and he could no longer hold back his tears. Aurora had understood his inner turmoil. She had seen his desperation earlier and somehow found a way to offer him a lifeline.
“What’s your name?” Cormac asked through his tears.
“My name is Aurora Ryan,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “I’m fourteen years old. Everyone calls me Aurora.”
“Aurora?” Cormac repeated. “That’s a beautiful name.”
“Aurora… I’ll remember your name,” she said. “If you don’t mind… You can stay here. My dad is gone, and it’s just me now. I’m a little scared.”
Cormac gently patted her head, a sense of warmth filling him despite everything. This little girl, this brave soul, had offered him something no one else had—hope.