COLTON'S POV
This morning, I watched my mate as she sat cross-legged on the floor, whispering softly to Cyrilla, trying to coax her to eat. Her voice trembled with warmth and worry, but it was met only with silence. Cyrilla’s eyes, once so full of spark, stared blankly at the wall—vacant, unreachable.
It breaks my heart to see Cyrilla so miserable, but watching my mate fall apart hurts even more. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot—clear signs she'd been crying.
There was only one other time she looked so utterly broken, and that was when we lost our daughter.
If our daughter were alive today, she'd be about Cyrilla's age. That’s part of why she means so much to both of us. We often said that if our daughter were here, we’d hope she’d be like Cyrilla—smart, brave, and kind.
Before we d
