Chapter 67: He''s Gone


    "L-Lyka... where''s Kiro? Well, knowing him, he would probably apany you here with his car...


    wait, did you just ride on a bus to be here?" Kurt bombarded me with questions, but I decided not to


    answer any of them. I didn''t want him to know anything about me and Kiro.


    "You said you helped my family, right? So... you were just there, in our area? What are you doing in


    our area?" I asked, feeling puzzled about his presence in the squatter area when he seemed well-


    off.


    "You''re being judgmental, Lyka," he responded, but I couldn''t understand what part of my questions


    made me judgmental.


    "So, why was Kiro not with you?" I asked again, feeling frustrated with his evasive responses.


    Instead of giving a straight answer, he simply nodded and let the conversation drop.


    Feeling tired and overwhelmed, I decided to rest my head on the car seat, pretending to sleep. But


    my mind was racing, and I couldn''t help but overthink.


    What could have happened to Kiro now? The thought of him using me as a rebound hurt me deeply.


    Was that why he called me Lily at first and then suddenly became kind to me? Did he just see the


    one he loved in me?


    I couldn''t hold back my tears, but I reminded myself that stressing out was not good for my baby. I


    tried to calm myself down, reminding myself to keep fighting and to stop crying.


    "Why are y-you crying, Lyka? Is there a problem?" Kurt''s concern interrupted my thoughts.


    I looked at him and whispered, "Is there something that happened to Father that I need to be


    nervous like this?" I asked, wiping off my tears.


    He remained silent, and I took that as a confirmation that something was wrong with my father.


    "Frankly, yes," he finally answered, and my heart raced with anxiety. What else could possibly go


    wrong on this already terrible day?


    It was funny how quickly my mood had changed from happiness in the morning to tears now. Time


    and emotions had a way of flipping like a coin.


    I could hardly find my voice as I whispered, "Thank you for answering."


    The ride to the hospital felt excruciatingly long, and my knees were shaking as we walked towards


    the entrance. Kurt noticed my trembling and ced his arm around my waist to support me. I


    protested, but he insisted, saying that I might fall without his help.


    In my confusion, every step we took felt like a blur. I didn''t even notice which room we were headed


    to, my mind clouded by worry and fear. But then, as I saw the door with the chillingbel ''Morgue,''


    my heart plummeted like a stone into the depths of despair. My steps faltered, and I couldn''t move


    any closer to that foreboding entrance. The reality of the situation hit me like a tidal wave, crashing


    against the fragile wall of denial I had constructed.


    "Why are we here, Kurt?" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief


    and desperation. "You must be mistaken. This can''t be right. This can''t be where my father is."


    Kurt''s gaze was heavy with a kind of empathy that only confirmed what I dreaded. His somber


    expression seemed to convey the truth that my heart refused to ept. The silence between us


    was deafening, and my mind raced, attempting to rationalize any alternative exnation.


    "Lyka..." Kurt''s voice was soft,den withpassion. It was as if he wanted to ease the blow that


    was about to strike, but he knew that no words could cushion the impact of the truth.


    A realization dawned upon me, stark and merciless. I didn''t need him to say it aloud; the room''s


    verybel spelled out the undeniable reality. My eyes widened in a mix of shock and devastation.


    No, it couldn''t be true. My father, the pir of our family, the source of strength and guidance,


    couldn''t possibly be inside that room. It was absurd, unthinkable—a nightmare I was desperately


    hoping to wake up from.


    "N-no..." I whispered, my voice trembling. "What am I thinking? This can''t be right. Father isn''t


    inside that room, right? It''s just a mix-up, a terrible misunderstanding..." My words were a desperate


    chant, an attempt to reassure myself that the gut-wrenching truth was merely a cruel trick my mind


    was ying on me.


    But as I looked at Kurt''s solemn expression, my resolve faltered. The silence between us was a


    confirmation of what I was afraid to acknowledge. I felt the tears streaming down my face, blurring


    my vision as reality crashed down upon me. The possibility I feared most had be my


    unfortunate reality.


    "Kurt, please tell me I''m wrong," I pleaded, my voice breaking with every syble. "Tell me that myThis belongs to N?velDrama.Org: ?.


    father isn''t there... Tell me it''s a mistake."


    Kurt''s eyes held a depth ofpassion that was difficult to fathom. He extended his hand to me, a


    gesture offort and support in the face of an unbearable truth. My heart ached, and the sobs


    that had been building up inside me erupted uncontrobly. The tears flowed as a torrent of


    emotions overwhelmed me—the sorrow, the disbelief, and the harsh reality that I was facing the


    loss of someone so dear to me.


    "Why are you so quiet? Answer me, Kurt! Answer me!" I cried out, my voice shaking with


    desperation. I needed an answer, even though I was afraid of what it might be. My heart raced like a


    wild horse, and I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples.


    The silence that followed felt like an eternity, heavy with uncertainty. Each passing second weighed


    me down, filling me with a growing dread. Kurt''sck of response seemed to confirm my worst


    fears, a confirmation I didn''t want to hear.


    Just as I was about to be consumed by my own spiraling thoughts, a figure appeared at the door. It


    was my mother, her presence a lifeline in the darkness of my emotions. I rushed to her, my arms


    wrapping around her as if she could shield me from the pain that loomed ahead. Our tears mixed,


    wordlessly sharing our grief.


    "Mother! Mother..." I began, my voice catching in my throat. But words seemed inadequate in the


    face of the overwhelming sorrow we both felt. She held me tighter, her sobs speaking volumes even


    before she uttered a single word.


    Amidst her tears, she managed to say, "Your father is gone now..."


    My heart clenched in my chest, the weight of her words crashing down on me. The world around me


    seemed to blur as I struggled to process what I had just heard. It couldn''t be true, could it?


    "No... No, that can''t be true," I muttered, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it less real.


    Denial was a flimsy shield against the truth, but I clung to it nheless. In my mind, I could still see


    my father''s smile and hear hisughter. He was just resting, right? He had a habit of sleeping in,


    after all.


    I closed my eyes, a silent plea echoing within me. Maybe, just maybe, this was all a mistake. Maybe


    I would wake up from this nightmare and find my father at home, safe and sound. But deep down, I


    knew that reality was harsher than any dream. And the pain of losing him was something I wasn''t


    prepared to face.


    I clung to any hope, trying to spit out possibilities that could prove this was all a mistake. But my


    mother gently wiped my tears away, and I knew my father''s passing was undeniable.


    "No, Lyka... he''s gone now... your Father is dead," my mother finally said, breaking my heart with


    those painful words.


    I continued sobbing, feeling lost and overwhelmed by the mess my life had be. My mother


    held my hands as we walked into the room. Inside, my younger siblings, Datdat and Dodong, were


    crying too.


    In front of us was a bed, and someone was lying there, covered with a white towel. It was my father.


    I gasped for air as I approached the bed.


    "F-father..." I couldn''t find the right words, only tears and sobs escaping from me.


    I remembered how he used to call me his princess when I was young, how he would scold me


    whenever I applied for a job. Memories flooded back, reminding me of the times he hated being


    bedridden because he didn''t want us to work for him.


    "What happened? Why are you suddenlyying there? W-wake up! Wake up!" I cried, hugging him


    despite the white covers that concealed his features.


    After crying and mourning for what felt like an eternity, exhaustion set in. I took deep breaths as I felt


    my mother''sforting embrace from behind.


    "Do you know what your father said when we were on our way here?" she asked gently.


    I was speechless, so I shook my head to indicate that I didn''t know.


    "He said... he''s sorry for what he said to you... he was really thankful to have a child like you... and


    he''s really proud of his... princess," she shared, and those words pierced my heart once more. I


    quietly sobbed, missing my father terribly.


    Dodong, Datdat, and Kurt were waiting outside, giving us space to grieve in private.


    "M-mom, what happened to Father? Why did he d-die?" I asked, my voice breaking.


    "ording to the doctor, your father''s condition was critical, and he couldn''t make it," she exined,


    her voice filled with sorrow.


    I nodded, slowlying to terms with the painful reality that my father was now gone. After a few


    more minutes, we left the room, leaving my father behind.


    Outside, Dodong, Datdat, and Kurt were there, offering their support and condolences. My heart


    was heavy, but I knew I had to stay strong for my family. The journey ahead would be tough, but we


    would face it together.


    "What are we going to do now, Mother?" I asked, my voice shaky with grief.


    "Your father''s body will be cremated. His body will be sent to us after... For now, let''s just go home


    and clean the house to wee your father''s ashes..." Mother replied, her voice heavy with sorrow.


    This has been an incredibly tiring day for all of us. Kurt, who stood beside us, remained silent,


    perhaps trying to offer some respect during this difficult time.


    As we approached Kurt''s car, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt guilty for


    inconveniencing him. "Ahmm, Kurt? Are you busy now? We disturbed you, right? You can go, and


    we will justmute—" I hesitated, not wanting to burden him any further.


    "No! No, it''s okay, Lyka..." Kurt reassured me, opening the backseat for Mother, Dodong, and


    Datdat.


    I couldn''t help but wonder how many people I had inconvenienced today.


    As we drove home, the atmosphere inside the car was heavy with silence. Even Dodong, who


    usually radiated cheerfulness, seemed subdued, and Datdat, despite her recovery and newfound


    ability to walk, appeared stressed. It was difficult to witness the pain we were all going through.


    "L-Lyka, my daughter?" Mother''s voice broke the silence.


    "Yes, mom?" I replied, my heart aching for her.


    "Can I ask a question?" she inquired, her eyes searching mine for answers. She asked me about


    Kiro.


    I swallowed hard, unsure if I should share the truth with her at this moment. With Kurt still present, I


    decided to postpone the conversation for now. "He''s... somewhere," I responded cryptically.


    Mother looked at me with suspicion, but she turned away, respecting my response.


    As we arrived at our house, the air felt eerie, and the weight of the day''s events pressed down on


    me like a suffocating shroud. I struggled to catch my breath, feeling light-headed and disoriented. It


    dawned on me that I hadn''t eaten anything since leaving Gustavo''s mansion earlier. My mind was


    clouded with negativity and the overwhelming grief of losing the two most special men in my life.


    I stopped walking, my body giving in to the overwhelming emotions and exhaustion. Everything


    turned ck as I sumbed to unconsciousness.