Franklin took his last breath at 6:47 AM, just as the morning sun fully illuminated the garden he'd spent forty years tending. Charlotte was sleeping in Emma's arms, and baby Frankie had finally settled against Alek's chest. The monitors stopped their steady beeping, replaced by a silence so profound it seemed to echo through the entire mansion.
Emma felt the exact moment her grandfather left them—not from the machines, but from the sudden emptiness in the room, as if all the warmth had been sucked away despite the morning sunshine streaming through the windows.
"He's gone," she whispered, the words feeling impossible even as she spoke them.
Alek reached across Franklin's still form to squeeze her hand. "He waited for the sunrise. He wanted to see one more morning with them."
Dr. Singh
