All That's Left

Chapter 34 | Vania

Two years ago

The smell of freshly-baked cookies filled the air as we passed by the bakery stand in the mall. My father nudged me with his elbow, a playful grin on his face. "Think we should get a couple of those for later? You know, for inspiration," he teased. I rolled my eyes, though a smile tugged at my lips.

"Maybe. But I thought we came here to get soccer equipment, not snacks," I countered, though my gaze lingered on the pastries a bit longer than necessary.

"Who said we can't do both?" he replied with a chuckle. "You're going to need some energy to defeat those defenders this season."

The mall was crowded, but it didn't bother me. I always felt the same with Dad by my side. He had a way of making everything seem lighter, more fun. It was one of the things I loved most about him—his ability to run the mundane into something memorable. We'd already hit the shop that sold baking supplies, and now we were headed towards the sporting goods store to grab new cleats and shin guards for the upcoming season.

We wandered through the aisles, chatting about nothing and everything. My father was going on about how we'd hold a competition—who could bake the best pastries for the team. He'd win, of course, but he was letting me have my moment.

Then, the atmosphere shifted.

It started with a murmur in the crowd, a ripple of tension that I couldn't quite place at first. I paused, looking around, my brows furrowing as the soft buzz of conversation died down. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

"Dad," I said, glancing up at him, but his attention had already shifted toward the growing disturbance. He stood a little straighter, his easy going demeanor fading into something more serious.

That's when I saw him.

Lucas.

He was pushing through the crowd, his eyes wild, crazed, like an animal backed into a corner. My blood ran cold. Lucas and I hadn't spoken in weeks, not  since everything went wrong between us, but the way he looked at me now—it was like he'd been waiting for this moment, feeding off his anger. I hadn't expected him here. I hadn't expected him at all.

"Vania," he called, his voice a jagged echo in the air. My heart pounded as I saw the gleam of metal in his hand. A gun.

No. This couldn't be happening.

Lucas moved closer, his eyes fixed on me, unblinking, as if nothing else existed but us. His face twisted with rage, and I froze, unable to breathe, unable to think.

"Vania, you belong to me!" He shouted, raising the gun. The world around me blurred, screams echoing in the distance. People began scattering, running for cover, but I couldn't move. I was rooted in place, my legs paralyzed by fear.

"Vania!" my father yelled, pushing me behind him, his broad frame acting like a shield.

"Lucas, put the gun down!" I screamed, my voice breaking, but it was like he didn't even hear me. His gaze burned with something far more dangerous than anger—obsession. "I tried, Vania. I tried to keep us together, but you were always going to chose Dorian over me. So if I can't have you, he can't either!" His voice cracked like a whip as he aimed the gun directly at me.

It all happened so fast, yet every moment stretched into slow motion. The glint of the gun in his hand. My father's strong grp pushing me back. The crowd screaming. The echo of my own voice yelling for him to stop.

Then the gunshot.

I barely registered what had happened before my father staggered back, his body absorbing the impact as he crumpled to the ground in front of me. I screamed, lunging forward to catch him, but I couldn't. My hands trembled as I pressed against the wound in his chest, but there was so much blood. Too much.

"Dad!" I cried, my vision blurring with tears. "No, please! Stay with me!" I shook him, desperate, but he only managed a weak smile. His breaths were shallow, each one more labored than the last. 

"It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You...you're going to be okay."

People around us were still screaming, scrambling for safety, but all i could focus on was him. My dad, the strongest person I'd ever known, lying in front of me, slipping away. I could feel his life draining beneath my fingertips, and I couldn't stop it.

Lucas stood there, gun still in hand, a twisted look on his face, but before he could raise his gun again, someone from the crowd tackled him to the ground. Another shot rang out, but I didn't look. I didn't care. All that mattered was my father.

His eyes fluttered closed, and I gripped his hand tighter, shaking my head. "No, no, no, don't leave me!" I sobbed, my chest heaving with the weight of grief that was already crashing down on me.

"I'm not leaving you," he rasped, his lips curving into a small, pained smile. "You're going to live a nice life now...you hear me? A good life...Vania."

"Dad, please..." My voice was barely a whisper, but I knew it was too late. His hand, the one who always helped me up, always strong and steady, went limp in mine.

And just like that, my world shattered.

I don't remember much after that. I don't remember the other gunshots that killed the innocent couple, the paramedics arriving or the police taking Lucas away. I don't remember getting home or Uncle Elly calling Paisley to tell her what happened. All I remember is the crushing silence that followed, the hollow space where my father's voice used to be.

I stayed there, kneeling beside him, until someone pulled me away. I didn't fight. I didn't cry anymore. I just...existed, empty and numb, while the world continued to move around me.