Watching My Family Burn

I woke up floating.

Not in a dream, but tethered to a nightmare.

My body lay cold on the bed, while my son, Leo, whispered, "Papa won't wake up."

My wife, Eleanor, stood by the door, her face a mask of ice. I was a ghost, able to watch, but powerless to intervene.

Then Julian Croft appeared, oozing charm and false sympathy. The man who'd received my liver, the root of my demise.

Eleanor dismissed Leo's desperate pleas, accusing *me* of manipulation, of using our son. She chose Julian, leaving Leo behind, a small, trembling figure in our empty home.