Dawn crept in silently, brushing soft golden hues against the windowsills, but Hailey Tang remained slumped over her cluttered desk. She had fallen asleep right on top of her design drafts—pencil still clutched between her fingers, a faint smudge of graphite across her cheek.
The night had been long. She'd finally found a sliver of inspiration and refused to waste a single second of it. Sketch after sketch, correction after correction… until her body could take no more.
But peace didn't last.
"Someone! Help—quick! Help!"
The desperate cry shattered the early morning stillness.
Hailey jerked awake, heart pounding. That was Grandpa Hai's voice—sharp, panicked, filled with a kind of fear she had never heard from him before.
She jumped up instinctively, but her legs had fallen completely asleep. Ten hours hunched in the same spot had turned them into numb sticks. The moment she tried to run, her knees buckled, and she collapsed hard onto the wooden floor with a thud that made her wince.
"Help! Somebody—please!"
The urgency in Grandpa's voice stabbed through her chest.
No time to process the pain. She gritted her teeth, scrambled to her feet, and half-ran, half-limped out of the room.
Just next door was Grandpa Tao's bedroom.
By the time she got there, her father Hai Zhiyuan was already crouched beside the elderly man, who lay motionless on the floor, his usually warm face drained of all color.
"Grandpa Tao!" Hailey gasped, eyes wide with horror.
"Ah Cheng! Call the car—now!" Hai Zhiyuan barked, not even looking up.
"On it!" Ah Cheng, the family's longtime driver and assistant, rushed in, scooping up Tao Weimin's frail body like he weighed nothing and darted out toward the car.
Hailey immediately threw her arm around her father's, helping him down the stairs as fast as she could. But just halfway down, his footing slipped.
Her heart stopped.
"Dad!" she cried out, catching his sleeve just in time.
But in saving him, she lost her balance.
Down she went, right onto her rear end, landing with a solid thump that echoed off the stairwell walls.
"Ah—damn it…" she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. It felt like her spine had cracked in half.
Hai Zhiyuan quickly steadied himself and reached for her. "Xiaotang! Are you okay?!"
She blinked through the pain, then flashed him a crooked smile. "I'm fine, I'm fine… What about you? You didn't fall, right?"
"No, I'm fine," he said, but his eyes remained filled with worry. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Hailey nodded, still half-sitting on the stairs. "I'm sure. Just a little bruised butt. Nothing fatal."
She was joking—but only to lift the mood. In truth, her heart was pounding like crazy.
She had prevented Grandpa Hai from falling. That alone was worth the bruise.
But the weight of Tao Weimin's condition came crashing back the next second.
They rushed to the hospital. Emergency lights blurred past the windows. No one spoke. No one needed to.
By the time the surgery doors flung open, it hadn't even been an hour.
A solemn-faced doctor approached them, his voice heavy with inevitability. "He's in critical condition. At this point, we're just trying to make him comfortable. Realistically… he only has a day or two. Please prepare yourselves."
Hai Zhiyuan's expression didn't change. Not much, anyway.
Years in business had taught him how to absorb bad news without falling apart. But Hailey could see it—the subtle flicker in his eyes, the way his shoulders sank half an inch lower.
He was grieving. Quietly. Helplessly.
As for Hailey, she just stood there.
Frozen.
The word "prepare" echoed in her head like a curse.
How do you prepare for someone you love to die?
The hospital room was quiet except for the gentle hum of the machines. Tao Weimin had been hanging on, his body weaker with each hour that passed.
Yet he hadn't let go.
Two full days had passed. Two long, exhausting days of hope and dread tangled together in one continuous thread. Hailey and her father never left his side. They barely ate, barely spoke. Just sat, waiting.
But the old man's eyes kept fluttering open, lips moving to call one name.
"Yì… Tao Yì…"
His grandson.
His only grandchild.
He hadn't come yet.
Hai Zhiyuan squeezed the old man's hand, voice hoarse but calm. "Hang in there, old friend. He's on his way. Just a little longer, alright? You'll see him soon."
Tao Weimin nodded faintly, his eyes misting over. A single tear slipped down his weathered cheek.
He was scared.
Not of dying—but of not seeing.
Of not saying goodbye.
Hailey couldn't take it anymore.
She stood abruptly and stepped out of the room, her feet carrying her down the hallway with no real destination in mind.
Once she was far enough, she leaned against the cold tile wall, closed her eyes, and exhaled deeply.
It didn't help.
Her chest felt tight, like something invisible was sitting on it.
She wasn't even sure what emotion this was.
Grief?
Yes.
But not entirely.
It wasn't just for Grandpa Tao. It wasn't just for the idea of death.
It was something deeper. Older.
She pressed her fingers against her eyes, willing the tears to stop, but it was no use.
They spilled anyway.
Why am I crying so hard?
In the silence, a thought whispered through her mind like a ghost from a past life.
Did Grandpa… in that other timeline…
Did he want to see me, too?
Back then, she had been so lost. So foolishly obsessed with a man who barely looked at her. She hadn't made time for family. She had thought she had forever.
Now she knew better.
And now, with Tao Weimin's life slipping through the cracks of time, it all came rushing back.
The guilt. The regrets. The things unsaid.
And that horrible, crushing knowledge—
You don't always get to say goodbye.
Back in the room, Hai Zhiyuan sat quietly, holding Tao Weimin's hand like it was made of glass.
He didn't talk. He didn't cry.
But he stayed.
That was how real love showed itself.
No grand gestures. No dramatic speeches.
Just staying.
Hailey eventually came back in, face damp but composed.
She walked over, sat down on the other side of the bed, and took Grandpa Tao's other hand.
For a moment, the three of them just sat there.
No words.
Just time.
And sometimes, that's the only thing the dying really want.
Someone to be there.
To prove they were loved.
To remind them they weren't alone.
And Hailey, for the first time in a very long time, stopped thinking about design drafts or marriage contracts or heartbreaks.
All that could wait.
For now, she was just a girl holding onto an old man's hand… hoping that one more day might still be enough.
To be continued…