The Wild Angel

Chapter 18: Fragile Heart

"Oh my Dad!" Azra exclaimed.

Azra had to craft a convincing excuse for her absence at the university—she couldn't just show up looking very pregnant without raising questions. She told them she was suffering from a severe viral illness, one bad enough to keep her home for an extended period. Meanwhile, Maeve, knowing she had only six days left on Earth, decided to skip school entirely, choosing to spend every moment with Azra.

Maeve shared the same story with their friends, explaining Azra's absence. Nearly every night, Gwyneth, Colai, Johansen, and Miley gathered at Maeve's condo, fulfilling her request to spend time together. Although they didn't mind, something about Maeve's behavior seemed off—she was different, a bit more distant, as if she was holding back something important. The fact that they hadn't seen Azra for a while only added to their unease.

Despite the viral illness excuse, none of Maeve's friends had any idea that Azra was actually very pregnant. They remained unaware of the real reason behind Azra's absence and Maeve's growing sense of urgency in these final days together.

Day 39

Gwyn, Colai, Jo, and Miley had just left Maeve's condo, leaving behind the lingering warmth of their presence.

After freshening up, Maeve made her way to Azra's unit. Just as she was about to enter, she froze—through the door, she could hear a deep voice inside, engaged in what sounded like a tense argument with Azra. Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she quickly opened the door.

Inside, Maeve was greeted by the sight of a tall, handsome man standing in front of Azra, who was sitting on the sofa, looking visibly drained. Both Azra and the man fell silent the moment Maeve stepped in.

"Kuya Michael ko, love. Kuya, si Maeve," Azra introduced them wearily. Her voice was lacking its usual energy.

Michael turned his sharp gaze to Maeve, scrutinizing her. "Maeve Jariel... hmm... parang may iba sa 'yo," he mused aloud, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Hi po," Maeve greeted him politely, though she couldn't shake the unease in her stomach.

Michael didn't respond immediately. Instead, he refocused his attention on Azra, his expression turning serious. "Anyway, Azra, I'm not sure if I can help you," he said in firm tone, making it clear that whatever they had been discussing was far from resolved.

Azra, sitting on the sofa with a hand on her swollen belly, looked up at her brother with a plea in her eyes.

"Kuya," Azra began, her voice trembling slightly. "You have the power to change things, to bend the rules. I can't lose her. Not now, not ever. Please, help me."

Michael sighed, his usually stern face softening just a little. "Azrael, you know the consequences of upsetting the balance. Every life and death is a thread in the tapestry of the universe. If we pull on one thread, the entire fabric could unravel."

Maeve, standing by the door, felt a knot tighten in her chest. She knew Azra was desperate, but hearing it like this, from an archangel no less, made the reality sink in.

"But she's different," Azra insisted. Her voice was growing more desperate. "She's not just anyone; she's my everything. Please. There has to be something we can do."

Michael looked between Azra and Maeve. His eyes were filled with the weight of centuries of wisdom and responsibility. "Azra, even if I wanted to, there's only so much I can do. The laws that govern our world are not just rules—they are the essence of existence. If I alter one fate, it could ripple across time and space in ways we can't predict."