Felix stepped through the door, his footsteps heavy, the silence of his house wrapping around him like a thick fog. He trudged toward his room, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him, when suddenly, his mother's voice broke the quiet.

"Felix!"

Her tone was sharp, a chill running down his spine as he halted in place. She had noticed. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, had caught the absence of Aaron the moment Felix had crossed the threshold.

"Where's your father?" she asked, her voice low but laced with a subtle tension.

Felix turned slowly, meeting her gaze. Her face, a mixture of concern and expectation, awaited an answer. His throat tightened, the words caught between his lips. Could she handle the truth? Could she bear to hear it?

He hesitated for a moment, then, with a quiet finality, he spoke.

"He won't come." 

"What do you mean he won't come?" His mother's voice trembled with disbelief, her brow furrowed as she stepped closer.

Felix's mind raced, his emotions tangled in a storm he could barely keep afloat. "That he simply won't." he muttered, his voice hollow, as if the words themselves felt foreign coming from him.

"Felix, for God's sake, why do you always have to act so mysterious? Where's Aaron?" Her frustration was palpable now, thickening the air in the room. She searched his face for some sort of explanation, but all Felix could feel was the weight of the unbearable truth pressing down on him.

He was still shaken by the meeting with Diana. The encounter felt surreal, like it had happened in some dream he couldn't fully wake from. He wasn't sure what was real anymore, and the confusion churned in his gut, leaving him feeling lost. He hated this feeling, hated how it made everything seem distant and unclear. But what gnawed at him even more was how his mother kept asking about his father, as if the man hadn't died right before his eyes, as if it wasn't something he couldn't undo.

Felix wanted to scream, wanted to shout at the injustice of it all. He couldn't protect his sister, couldn't protect his father. And now, standing here, he felt like nothing more than a useless bystander in his own life.

He was worthless.

"Do you mind answering me?" His mother's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, sharp and insistent. But Felix, overwhelmed by the storm inside him, could no longer keep it in. The anger, the grief, the helplessness — it all surged to the surface in an uncontrollable outburst.

"Mom, he's dead! Dead! Are you satisfied now?" The words erupted from him, harsh and raw. He didn't dare meet her eyes, didn't want to see the pain he had just inflicted upon her. 

He couldn't bear it.

There was a long, suffocating silence as the reality of his words settled between them. Felix's chest heaved as he took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. 

"I'm going to my room. Don't talk to me," he said, his voice quieter now, a calmness that betrayed the turmoil still raging inside him. He didn't wait for her response, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs. His steps were slow, each one heavier than the last. Fatigue weighed on him, dragging him down with every movement. The climb had been grueling, each step feeling like an eternity as he ascended, his body protesting with every step. After what felt like an endless struggle, he finally reached the second floor, he paused for a moment, leaning against the cold wall, gathering whatever strength was left. Then, without hesitation, he pushed forward, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridor. The hall stretched before him, dimly lit by the faint glow of overhead lights. The distance seemed longer than it should have, as if the corridor itself was reluctant to let him reach his destination. But there it was, at the very end of the hall the door to his room. He grasped the handle with a weary hand, twisting it slowly before pushing the door open. The creak of the hinges echoed through the quiet room, a sound that felt almost too loud after the silence of the hall. As he stepped inside, he shut the door behind him with a soft click. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the familiar surroundings. The bed neatly made, books stacked precisely on the desk, clothes folded with meticulous care. Everything in its place, everything in order. Yet, as he stood there, taking it all in, a gnawing realization crept over him: despite the outward precision, his mind was a different story. His thoughts, scattered and tangled, refused to align in the same way. The chaos inside him was in stark contrast to the calm, ordered space he had created. With a sigh that carried the weight of his exhaustion, he tossed himself onto the bed. The soft mattress embraced him, but the comfort was fleeting, his restless mind refusing to settle. For a moment, he lay there, eyes closed, trying to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling just behind his eyelids, but it was no use.

"Maybe I should contact Uncle Jack..." he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible, as if the words were more for his own ears than anyone else's. The thought lingered for a moment, a fleeting spark of clarity in the fog of his exhaustion, but before he could dwell on it any longer, the weight of fatigue pulled him under. His body surrendered, the pressure of the day finally breaking him. He sank into the bed, his thoughts fading like the last echoes of a distant conversation, until all that remained was the dark pull of sleep.

-

Felix slowly blinked, his vision still hazy as the world around him began to take shape. The first thing that became clear was the vast expanse of blue stretching endlessly above him — so pure, so vast. The sunlight bathed his face, its warmth soaking into his skin, a sensation he hadn't felt in what seemed like ages. It was a fleeting comfort, a brief moment of peace, but as it spread through his body. How long had it been since he'd experienced this simple pleasure? He tried to recall the last time he had felt so… calm. So unburdened. It felt like a lifetime ago. How had his once peaceful existence devolved into this? When had the serenity of everyday life been replaced by the cold, unblinking stare of those eyes? Eyes that burned like fire, deep and blood-red, watching him like prey. Eyes that both terrified and mesmerized him. The thought of them made his chest tighten, his pulse quicken. Yet, there was something strangely captivating about them. 

"Wait a damn minute…" Felix's breath hitched as his mind caught up with his surroundings. 

His eyes snapped open wide, and his hands instinctively shot up to push himself into a sitting position.

"Wasn't I in my room?"

The confusion in his mind swirled like a storm, each thought crashing into the next. He glanced around, his eyes scanning his surroundings. The air smelled sweet — rich with the scent of fresh blooms — and the first thing that caught his attention were the red roses. They were everywhere, vibrant and almost... overwhelming. Their deep crimson petals shone in the sunlight, their fragrance heady and strong. The sight was almost surreal.

"The greenhouse? What am I doing here?"

His fingers tugged at his hair in frustration, feeling the weight of his disorientation. He should have been in his room, but before he could make sense of it, the quiet was broken by a voice.

"Felix."

The sound was soft, yet it cut through the fog in his mind with a clarity that made him freeze. The voice was familiar — too familiar. It was one he hadn't heard in what felt like forever. A voice that belonged to someone he should have never met again.

Felix's heart skipped a beat.

"Evelyn?"

The name slipped from Felix's lips like a whisper, as if saying it aloud might shatter the fragile boundary between reality and the dreamlike world he now found himself in. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He scrambled to his feet in a swift motion, the sudden movement reminding him of a startled cat, ready to flee or fight — he wasn't entirely sure which. His body shook with the shock, but his mind was racing even faster. 

"No… this can't be real. It can't be."

He turned, his eyes wide, his breath quickening as he locked onto the figure standing a few paces away. 

There she was. 

Evelyn.

Her image was as clear as the sky above him, and yet, it was impossible. His mind rejected it at first, his heart hammering against his ribs as he tried to make sense of what was happening. But no matter how much he tried to deny it, there she stood — his sister, the one he had lost. The one who had died. 

She was just as he remembered her: her blonde hair cascading in waves around her shoulders, her eyes a deep shade of blue that always seemed to hold some secret. She was dressed in a long, flowing dress, a shade of white that seemed to glow under the sunlight, making her appear almost ethereal — like a ghost, but so undeniably, painfully real.

"Evelyn!" Felix's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. His pulse thundered in his ears as he took a step toward her, and then another. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The words that tumbled from his mouth were barely coherent, fueled by confusion, shock, and a burning need for answers. 

"What are you doing here? Aren't you dead?"

His chest tightened, and a cold sweat prickled along his skin, his eyes never leaving her. Evelyn, his sister, the person he had buried in his memory, was standing right before him. Alive. In front of him. And yet, there was something wrong — something that didn't quite fit. 

Her lips parted, and for a moment, Felix thought she might speak, but the words that came out were not what he expected. 

"Felix…" 

Evelyn's gaze turned cold, as if the words he spoke had stung her in some deeply personal way. Her lips tightened, her jaw set in a hard line as her eyes bore into him. The warmth of the moment evaporated, leaving a biting chill that cut through Felix's chest.

"Dead?" she repeated, her voice low, bitter. "Dead?"

Her words seemed to burn as they left her mouth. Felix flinched as if struck, his stomach twisting in knots. But what she said next shattered everything he thought he knew.

"You — you killed me, Felix."

Her voice was sharp now, a whip of accusation that cut through the silence with a finality that made Felix's stomach churn. Her eyes glinted with something more than sorrow; there was fury in them now. Fury aimed squarely at him. At the brother who had failed her.

"Do you remember that night?" Evelyn hissed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Do you remember what happened? What did you do?" She took a step toward him, her movements quick and controlled, like a predator stalking its prey. "You let me die, Felix. You let me die. And now — now you have the nerve to ask me why I'm here?"

Felix staggered back, his breath catching in his throat. His hands shot out, desperate to steady himself, to understand what was happening. His thoughts were scattered. 

"No, Evelyn, that's —"

"That's what?" she cut him off, her voice rising now, thick with bitterness. "That's what you're going to say to me after everything? After I begged you — begged you to not let the Moriartys lay a hand on us!?"

Her face twisted in anger, and for the first time, Felix saw something so raw and painful in her expression that it almost broke him. Her grief, her rage, it was all aimed at him. He opened his mouth to apologize, to explain that he never wanted any of this, but the words stuck in his throat, heavy and suffocating. How could he explain the suffocating guilt that had gnawed at him since that night? The helplessness? The fear? How could he ever make her understand the truth — that he never wanted for her to die?

Evelyn stepped closer, her eyes boring into his, filled with accusation. 

"You abandoned me, Felix."

The words were like daggers, piercing through the fragile walls of his mind. Felix recoiled as though physically struck, his legs weak beneath him, his heart sinking with the weight of her anger. The guilt had always been there, a constant shadow trailing him. But now, hearing it from her, from her, it felt like a suffocating pressure, choking him.

"I never meant to —" Felix began, but Evelyn raised a hand, cutting him off.

"Stop. Just stop." Her voice was a harsh whisper, as though saying the words aloud pained her. She stepped back, shaking her head slowly, her expression one of pure disgust. 

"I died because of you, Felix. Don't stand here and pretend you didn't."

Felix felt his throat tighten, and for a moment, the world tilted around him, the greenhouse fading in and out of focus. He had no words, no defense. How could he? His sister, his flesh and blood, was accusing him of her death. The guilt — the unbearable guilt — settled deeper into his bones, and for the first time, he truly wondered if he deserved to be alive.

Evelyn's eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but the bitterness was still there, lurking behind her every movement. "You were supposed to protect me. You promised. And now…" She looked down at the ground, the pain in her eyes too much to bear. 

"Now look where we are."

Felix's breath hitched. He reached out, his hand trembling. "Evelyn, please —"

But she turned away sharply, cutting him off before he could say anything else. Her shoulders stiffened as she whispered one last thing that sent a chill through him.

"You're not the one who's been abandoned, Felix. I am."

And with that, she vanished into the roses, leaving him standing there, broken and alone in the silence of the greenhouse.

"Evelyn!? Where did you go? Evelyn!?" Felix shouted, his voice ragged, the panic rising in his chest like a tidal wave. His heart was pounding, every beat a hammer against his ribs. He spun around, frantic, searching the rows of red roses as if they could hold the answer to what was happening. Where had she gone? He hadn't imagined it. She had been right there. She had spoken to him — accused him, blamed him. And now she was gone, vanished like a phantom into the air.

His breath was shallow, his eyes darting between the flowers, but there was no sign of her. The greenhouse was silent again, as still and suffocating as before. He stumbled back a step, his thoughts spinning, his pulse racing out of control.

"Was it real?"

A rustling sound came from behind him, soft but unmistakable. Felix froze, his whole body going rigid. That voice. 

"That's enough, Felix."

It wasn't Evelyn this time. The words were deeper, more gravelly, but still unmistakable. Felix's blood ran cold. He whipped around, his body going stiff as he saw him standing there, emerging from the shadows between the flowers.