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Lita's hands trembled on the steering wheel as she trailed the ambulance, barely keeping it in sight. Her chest felt tight with every second that passed, the flashing lights ahead almost mocking her helplessness. Her father was in the back with Mateo, while Lita fought to stay focused through her tears. She couldn't lose him—not now.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, Lita threw the car into park and bolted out, barely remembering to lock the door behind her. Inside, the paramedics were already unloading Mateo. Her father, shaking, helped them carefully lift him onto the stretcher. Mateo wasn't moving, his face pale and slick with sweat. A lump formed in Lita's throat as she saw the tubes and wires attached to him.

"Mateo! No, no, no..." she whispered, her voice breaking as she rushed after them.

Her father's hand slipped from Mateo's arm as the paramedics wheeled him quickly through the doors. Lita ran after them, her tears falling harder now. She couldn't let them take him away—not without her. She needed to be with him.

But as she reached the doors to the emergency area, a nurse stepped in front of her, gently but firmly holding her back. "You need to wait in the waiting room, miss," the nurse said.

Lita's heart pounded in her ears. "No! Get out of my way!" she screamed, her voice raw with grief. Her hands pushed the nurse, trying to shove her aside, but another nurse quickly approached, stepping in to help.

"Miss, please," the second nurse said gently, but Lita wasn't listening. All she could think about was Mateo, slipping away from her. How could they expect her to wait? Mateo needed her. They couldn't take him, not now, not after everything.

Her father, Victor, grabbed her arm, pulling her close as she sobbed uncontrollably. His voice was calm, but there was a tremor beneath it. "Lita," he whispered, pulling her away from the nurses. "Lita, sé que estás molesta, pero tienes que esperar."

"I can't—I can't lose him!" she cried, her knees buckling as she collapsed into her father's chest. "I can't..."

"I know," he whispered, his own eyes brimming with tears as he held her. "I know, mi niña."

They walked together toward the waiting room, Lita leaning heavily on her father. The weight of her emotions crushed her—she had been strong for so long, for Mateo, for her father, for everyone—but now, she felt like she was drowning. In the sterile silence of the waiting room, she broke down completely, her sobs echoing off the walls as she clung to her father's chest.

Victor stroked her hair softly, trying to hold himself together, but the crack in his voice gave him away. "It's going to be okay, Lita. He's strong... just like you." But even as he said it, his own tears finally slipped free, and for a moment, father and daughter just held each other, both consumed by the fear of what might come.

Time passed painfully slow. Lita barely noticed the people around her—the doctors, the nurses, the other families anxiously waiting for news of their own loved ones. Her world had shrunk to the size of that hospital room, her thoughts circling around Mateo, his smile, his laugh, the way he'd always managed to comfort her even when things were tough.

A doctor approached them, pulling her out of her thoughts. He was an older man, with a kind but tired face, adjusting his glasses as he walked over. Lita and her father stood up immediately, her heart hammering in her chest.

The doctor gave a tight-lipped smile, but his expression was somber. "Victor," he said, "Mateo's situation is not uncommon for heart transplant patients. Right now, it looks like he's experiencing acute rejection."

The words felt like a punch to Lita's chest. She blinked, trying to make sense of it, but all she could hear was the word "rejection." Her father nodded, but she could see the fear in his eyes.

The doctor continued, "Mateo's immune system is attacking the new heart. It's something we monitor closely in transplant cases. We've given him immunosuppressants, the strongest medication we can at this stage, but... as of now, Mateo is unconscious. We're doing everything we can, but I need you both to understand the severity of the situation."

Lita's breath hitched, and she fought back more tears. She was shaking all over, but she had to ask, she had to know. "But he's going to be okay, right?" Her voice was small, desperate. "You're a doctor! You're supposed to fix him! Can't you just... fix him? Please?" Her words tumbled out, frantic, as she stepped forward. Her eyes were wide and pleading.

The doctor sighed, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the truth. "We're doing everything in our power," he said quietly.

Lita felt herself being pulled back by her father. "Lita," he said softly, his voice breaking as he spoke. "Sé que estás molesta. Yo también lo estoy, pero este hombre ha hecho mucho por Mateo, no descargues tu enojo en él."

Lita looked at her father, his face lined with grief, and her anger crumbled. She knew he was right, but the pain in her chest was unbearable. It felt like her heart was breaking into a million pieces. She let out a shaky breath, wiping away the tears that seemed never-ending.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She turned back to the doctor, her face pale and wet with tears. "Can we... Can we see him? Please?" She begged, her voice cracking again as she took a step toward the doctor.

The doctor hesitated, clearly weighing the risks. "Mateo is in very fragile condition right now—"

"Please," Lita interrupted, her voice hoarse with desperation. "I'm begging you. I need to see him. Just for a moment."

Her Dad stepped forward, his hand resting on his daughter's shoulder as he nodded in agreement. "Please, we'd appreciate it," he said, his own voice trembling with unshed tears.

The doctor looked between them, seeing the anguish in their eyes. After a long pause, he nodded. "Alright... follow me."

Lita's hands trembled as she followed the doctor down the hallway. The sterile smell of the hospital filled her lungs, but all she could focus on was the overwhelming tightness in her chest. Her father walked silently beside her, his hand on her shoulder as if to keep her grounded. The doctor's voice felt like distant noise, explaining Mateo's condition and the inevitability of what was to come, but Lita couldn't grasp the words.

Finally, they reached the room.

The door was slightly ajar, the faint sound of machines beeping inside. The doctor paused before opening it fully, turning to them with a gentle expression. "Mateo is stable for now, but his body isn't responding to the treatment as we'd hoped. We've made him comfortable, and he's not in any pain. You can sit with him for as long as you need. Take all the time you want."

Lita swallowed thickly, her heart pounding in her ears. She nodded, unable to speak, and pushed the door open.

When Lita stepped into the room, her breath hitched. Mateo lay on the bed, pale and still, hooked up to several machines monitoring his heart and breathing. Tubes ran from his arms, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest were being aided by a ventilator. His eyes were closed, his body completely unresponsive.

Lita's legs felt weak as she approached the bed, her father following behind her. She sat down in the chair beside him, reaching for his hand. His skin felt cool, and her heart shattered at the sight of him like this.

"Mateo..." she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please... wake up."

Her father stood behind her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, though his face was full of pain. "We're here, son," her Dad said softly. "We love you."

Tears poured down Lita's cheeks as she stared at her brother. "You can't leave us. You have so much more to do, Mateo. This... this isn't fair!" She clutched his hand tighter, her voice cracking with each word. "Remember how you always talked about traveling the world? You wanted to see everything... you wanted to... to play soccer, right? You told me you'd win the world-cup, and Dad would never have to worry about bills again."

Her sobs grew harder, her body trembling as she leaned closer to him. "You promised me you'd be at my wedding, Mateo. You said you'd make a speech and embarrass me in front of everyone. You said..." She choked on her words, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You said we'd always be there for each other. You can't just go. You can't."

Her father, standing beside her, wiped his own eyes, trying to keep it together. "Lita..." he whispered gently, but she shook her head, unwilling to let go.

"Wake up," Lita begged again, her voice desperate. "Please. Just... just open your eyes, Mateo. I need you. We all need you."

But there was no response. The machines continued their steady beeping, and Mateo remained silent, his body trapped in a battle it couldn't win.

As they spoke, Lita noticed the machines' beeping growing more erratic. Her heart raced, and fear crept in. "Dad... what's happening?"

Dad's face turned somber as he glanced at the monitor. "I think he's fading, Lita."

"No!" Lita cried, clutching Mateo's hand tighter. "Wake up! You can't leave me! You have to stay! We need you!"

The nurse returned to check on Mateo, her expression shifting from concern to sorrow as she quietly observed the monitor. "I'm so sorry," she said softly, stepping closer. "It's time to say goodbye."

Lita's breath caught in her throat as the reality of the situation washed over her. "No, no... he's not ready. I'm not ready!" She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks as she leaned over Mateo. "I love you," she whispered through her tears. "I love you so much. I don't know how to live without you, but... I promise I'll make you proud. I'll live the life you wanted. I'll... I'll make sure everyone knows how amazing you were."

Dad placed his hand on Mateo's chest, his voice trembling as he spoke. "We love you, son. We always will. Rest now... you've fought enough."

As the machines continued their slow descent, Mateo's breathing became more shallow. The final beep echoed in the room, and then there was silence.

Lita felt her heart break into a thousand pieces. Dad wrapped his arms around her as they both sobbed, holding each other tightly as the reality of their loss settled over them.

The nurse returned to turn off the machines, but she allowed them to stay with Mateo as long as they needed. Lita couldn't stop staring at him, trying to commit every detail of his face to memory, as if by holding onto him, she could keep him with her just a little longer.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Dad gently took her hand. "We should go, mija," he whispered.

Lita nodded, her tears still flowing. "I'll never forget you, Mateo," she said softly. "I'll live for you."

They left the hospital that night, heartbroken, but with the memory of Mateo's bravery and the love they shared. Even in death, he would always be with her, watching over her, as she vowed to live her life in honor of the dreams he never got to fulfill.