Nathan did not know.
The doctor’s words still hang in the air long after he leaves the house, and I can see the exact second the meaning fully registers in Nathan’s expression, because his usual confidence falters and something softer moves behind his eyes.
“She died?” he asks quietly, and there is no arrogance in his tone now, only genuine shock.
I nod once.
“In the hospital,” I reply. “After my dad. She held on longer than anyone expected.”
Nathan runs a hand through his hair and exhales slowly.
“I didn’t know,” he says again, almost to himself. “I’m sorry.”
I shrug because the apology does not change anything.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” he insists gently. “And whatever needs to be done for the funeral, I’ll help.”
Before I can respond, a shrill voice carries across the gr
