The Last Memory of You

Rose Murdock's POV

No one ever mentioned again the surprise coming-of-age ceremony I had planned for Raymond. As for the truth behind our parents' deaths, my grief and guilt were more than enough. He didn't need to know.

That day, he had said to me, "Rose, you really make me hate you. I hate you more than anything!"

From then on, he never once looked me in the eye.

I was trapped inside those memories.

Suddenly, I felt someone patting my arm and calling me softly. I jerked awake, gasping for air.

The car had already stopped in the villa district. Adrian sat beside me, watching with worried eyes.

I turned to him and whispered, "Actually, I've always regretted it."

Adrian stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding. His voice was gentle.

"I know."

I forced a smile. He was nothing but a stranger. What could he possibly know?

And yet, that single reply made me break down. My tears fell harder because his voice sounded so much like Raymond's voice from the past—the brother who used to protect me.

After we got out of the car, I silently followed Adrian into the unfamiliar villa.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps when I felt out of breath. My heart raced, and I felt an immense headache.

The healer had once explained that this was an emotional meltdown. Depressed werewolves often broke down without warning. That was when they should find someplace safe, somewhere they could at least talk to their wolf.

But I had lost mine. My wolf had all but vanished the night of the earthquake, gone with my parents. Raymond refused to forgive me. There was no one left to confide in.

I stood frozen, clutching my head.

Adrian's voice was louder than usual.

"Are you tired? Do you want me to carry you?" He steadied me on his back. "Let's go home and eat."

The sudden warmth made my nose sting. My tears spilled uncontrollably, dripping onto his shoulder.

After losing my parents, I was diagnosed with depression. I dreamed of that night again and again. The healer once suggested I talk it out with my brother. But with our parents gone and our family on the brink of collapse, Raymond had been forced to shoulder everything alone.

I couldn't pile my weakness onto him, either.

Adrian roasted the beef in the simplest way. Halfway through dinner, he suddenly put down his fork. "Actually, you and I…"

He hesitated. I knew he was searching for words to say that he and I were complete strangers.

I pretended not to hear, ladling him a bowl of broth. "It tastes a bit spicy. Next time, maybe we should use less pepper?"

He didn't bring it up again.

That night, I tossed and turned. Sleep was impossible. Feeling restless, I got out of bed. Just as I opened my door, I heard violent coughing from the room next door—and beneath it, the sound of dry retching.

I knocked, but nobody answered. The coughing only grew worse.

I pushed the door open. A draft came out, carrying the bitter smell of smoke and alcohol.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating Adrian curled on the sofa, his broad back hunched in pain. The pale light landed on the blanket at his feet—dark, damp stains spreading there.

It was blood from late-stage heart failure.

Hearing my footsteps, he scrambled to pull open a drawer, shoving in bottles of pills and half-empty liquor. There was still blood smeared on the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen this."

I didn't answer, and only sat down beside him. "What if they found you a compatible heart? Maybe you'd still have a chance."

Adrian's voice trembled.

"I don't deserve to live. Back then, my sister Emma was already consumed by illness. She chose to leave on her own, afraid I'd drown in the medical debt. All these years, I worked myself to the bone, clawing for money, for connections, doing whatever it took. But in the end, everything came too late. None of it brought her back."

He broke down sobbing.

"But if you really chose to give up on life, wouldn't that be the biggest slap in the face to her?" I said softly. "What if we tried to find you a heart together?"