When Michael had held Isabella in his arms earlier, he admired her little body. Her sweet face, and her delicate eyelids that revealed the tiniest of blue veins. The sweet smell of her drifted up to him, filling him with a sense of warmth. But then he remembered she was dying. His mind was consumed with thoughts of when the agony would lessen. 

In an instant, Michael collapses to the floor. The sound of his cry echoed through the air, a mixture of anguish and heartache. His suffering was unfathomable, as if the combined grief of a million individuals who had experienced the loss of a loved one was weighing on his shoulders. As tears streamed down his face, he sobbed like a mother who has lost her precious child, or a man who had been stripped of his entire family. His cries were a raw and gut-wrenching expression of losing everything he held dear. 

The hospital wasn't too far away. Across the street, there was a quaint little park where Michael led Isabella. They rested upon the soft blades of grass, gazing up at the night sky. Isabella struggled to recall the last time she had seen the stars outside of her room. As time passed, her strength waned, limiting her ability to move independently.

Isabella spent nights lying in bed, gazing out her window at the endless sky. It always brought memories flooding back of Michael. The sky was a mesmerising sight, with its crystal clearness and a touch of mystery, adorned with twinkling stars. 

“Bella?” Michael's voice pierced the quietness.

“Yes.” The tone of her voice was hesitant, as if she were anxious about what Michael would say next.

"Where is your mother?" He inquired eagerly. "The nurse mentioned that I am the first person to visit you in more than a year. What has become of her?"

"I have no idea." She went on to explain. “One day, she just up and left.“

"Did she really leave without a single word?" Michael asked, shocked.

“Yes,” Isabella replied.

“That must have been very difficult for you,” Michael said sympathetically.

“It was.” She sighed. “But I understand. She could not handle taking care of me anymore. I have learned to accept it. I have been here for so long that I have forgotten what it feels like to have a mother.”

Michael could hear the sadness in Isabella’s voice, and he wanted to do something to make her feel better. 

“I am here now. Is there anything I can do for you?”

She smiled weakly. “Just talking to me is enough. The days get lonely in here.”

Michael placed his hands behind his head and gazed up at the vast expanse of the night sky. His mind was flooded with mixed emotions as he reflected on Isabella's sad words. 

Michael remembered Amanda’s tireless efforts and long days of work. He always thought she was a decent woman, recognising her as someone who did everything in her power to provide for both herself and her daughter, Isabella, as a single mother. He had no interest in passing judgment on the woman. After all, Michael had never experienced what Amanda had gone through, and he had always had everything he needed. Nonetheless, he found it unfathomable that she would leave her only child at a hospital. It was a concept he could not seem to understand.

“Do you remember our last night on the rooftop?” Isabella asked, with a hint of nostalgia in her tone.

She glanced towards Michael and caught him gazing at her with a content expression.

“The memory of that night will forever stay with me. It was a mixture of joy and sadness. Joy, because it was the moment you professed your love for me and shared our first kiss. But also sadness, because it was the final time I laid eyes on you.”

Isabella sighed. Her eyes filled with sorrow. "It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

Michael nodded, a wistful smile on his face. "But I remember it like it was just yesterday. The moonlight. The cool breeze, and you in my arms."

Isabella smiled, her heart fluttering at the memory. "I remember feeling so happy and alive at that moment. I never wanted it to end."

"Me neither," Michael replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. "But fate had other plans for us."

“On that night, we were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a shooting star. You suggested that I make a wish, and I wished for one thing: more time with you, Michael. But do not fret, I am not afraid of death because I have had the chance to mentally prepare for it and have meaningful conversations with God. My only fear is not having enough time to spend with you, to be the first person you see when you drift off to sleep and wake up in the mornings.” Isabella's voice trembled and faltered. Her emotions overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, evidence of the pain she was feeling. Michael, seeing how emotional this was for Isabella, pulled her close to him, careful not to harm her delicate frame. In this moment, words seemed insufficient, so instead Michael chose to comfort her in silence. Hold her tenderly in his embrace. 

After Isabella had calmed down, Michael asked. “What steps can one take to be ready for death?” His words carried a tinge of anger, despite trying to maintain composure.

Isabella looked up at him and explained, “I see it as a test.  You are aware of its impending arrival, so you have ample time to get ready for it. Therefore, when it finally arrives, there is no need to feel anxious or scared."

"Silly, girl. Do not speak like that.” Michael gently tapped her nose in a playful manner.

“Please make me a promise. Promise that no matter what happens, you will never forget about me, Michael. I know life can get busy and things can change, but I always want to hold a special place in your heart. Will you make that promise to me?” She asked, pleadingly.