Covered in patched blankets in the colors of early autumn, Father looked very vulnerable. He wasn't a tall or musculature figure, but when he spoke, everyone looked up to him. Now his face had lost all expression.
"Is he awake?" Catherine whispered as she gently wrapped her fingers around his hand.
The lines in his face moved into a hopeful smile. His voice sounded soft and slightly hoarse:
"Margaret?"
Slowly he opened his eyes.
"It's Catherine," she said.
"Catherine ..."
He hesitated for a moment before folding his fingers around hers. Behind her Annie entered the chamber. She stood silently in the entrance and stared at Father's bed. It took a few seconds for Vincent to sense her presence.
"I heard something had happened to Father," she started.
"There's no need to fuss," Father assured her, although his voice was thin and his breathing heavy.
"What happened?" another voice chipped in.
Annie's stomach instantly cramped up.
"It's nothing, Dylan," Father panted. "This is an old body. It just needs some rest."
Tears welled up in Annie's eyes and she abruptly rushed out of the room, almost crashing into Dylan's shoulder. She kept her eyes low and ignored his plea: "Annie?"
"We should let Father sleep," Vincent concluded.
He bent over the bed and pressed a kiss on Father's forehead, after which he took Catherine's hand and led her out the chamber. Dylan quietly followed.
"The children are worried," he told Vincent. "He just collapsed during the rehearsal?"
"His heart is wearied," Vincent said. "It wasn't anything the children did."
Catherine touched Dylan's arm.
"Go talk to Annie," she suggested. "She seemed upset."
On his way to Annie's chamber, Dylan crossed Jamie, who did not grant him a single look. When he reached his destination, he saw that Annie was not there. Curiosity made him enter nevertheless. The first thing he noticed was that the piano-shaped music box he had given her was no longer on her nightstand. The portrait she had made of him in arts class was also gone.