Broken

Chapter 50: Khalid Morris

Zac returned from the corner where he had tried to call Fatima back. He'd seen her missed calls and had tried to reach her, but now it was she who wasn't returning his calls. He pocketed his phone, frustration and worry gnawing at him. His mind was split between Fatima's silence and the looming reality of his father's condition.

Tia stood slowly, wiping the tears from her face. Her hands trembled slightly, but she straightened her posture, as if gathering every ounce of strength she had left. "I'm going to see if I can go see your father," she said, her voice wavering but determined.

Zac nodded. "I'll go with you," he replied softly, though the tightness in his chest made each word feel heavy. He wasn't sure what he'd find in that hospital room or if he was ready to face it, but he couldn't let his mother do it alone.

As they walked toward the nurses' station together, Zac could feel the weight of everything that had happened between him and his father bearing down on him. The argument, the harsh words exchanged, and now... this. He forced himself to push those thoughts aside for the moment. His father was still here. That's what mattered now.

They reached the station, and his mother leaned in to speak with the nurse, her voice quiet but urgent. Zac stood beside her, his mind racing with memories, guilt gnawing at him with each second that passed. He glanced at the door down the hall, knowing what awaited him inside but still feeling miles away from the courage he needed to face it.

The nurse gave a solemn nod and motioned for them to follow her. Zac and Tia walked in silence down the sterile, brightly lit hallway, the sound of their footsteps blending with the soft hum of the hospital. Each step felt like a countdown, leading him closer to a moment he wasn't sure he was ready for.

When they reached the door to Michael's room, the nurse pushed it open, and Zac's heart sank at the sight. His father lay there, frail and motionless, tubes and machines keeping him alive. The man who had always seemed larger than life was now a pale shadow of himself. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors filled the room, a constant reminder of how fragile everything had become.

Tia's breath hitched, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes. She rushed to his bedside, taking Michael's hand in hers. "Oh, Michael," she whispered, her voice breaking as she brushed a thumb over his knuckles. "I'm here... I'm right here."

Zac stood frozen in the doorway, his chest tightening at the sight of his father so helpless. The guilt he'd been trying to suppress surged up inside him, and for a moment, he couldn't move. All he could think about was the last conversation they'd had—the anger, the accusations, the hurtful words exchanged.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his eyes never leaving his father's face. "Dad..." he whispered, though he knew there would be no response. He stood by the other side of the bed, his throat tight as he looked down at the man who had always seemed invincible.

Tia sobbed quietly, her body trembling with grief. Zac's heart ached for her, for himself, for the man lying in that bed. The argument between him and his father now felt so small, so meaningless in the face of what was happening.

"We're here, Dad," Zac said softly, his voice cracking as he placed a hand on his father's arm. "We're here."
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"I feared you'd have nothing to say," Khalid said, his eyes scanning Fatima with a mixture of coldness and curiosity. Fatima stood frozen, her mind swirling with emotions that refused to form coherent words.

"I—" she began, but the weight of it all made her stop. What could she possibly say to him now?

"I assume I'm the last person in the world you were expecting to see," Khalid continued, slipping his hands into his pockets casually, though his voice held an edge.