Scarlett

The words hung in the air like a blade pressed against my heart.

I stared at Viktor, my voice barely above a whisper, tears already spilling down my cheeks.

“You… you don’t really remember me?”

He looked at me with that same polite, distant confusion, his eyes gentle but empty of any recognition. My chest squeezed so tightly I thought it might crack open.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice calm and sincere. “No… I don’t.”

The room tilted. I felt my knees weaken as fresh tears blurred my vision. Before I could say anything else, his parents slowly approached the bed, their faces pale with worry.

His...