"Doamne, ajută-mă să iert," he whispered one last time. This time, it wasn't a plea for strength to do something difficult—it was an admission that he was finally letting go. The "splinter" in his heart didn't just vanish; it turned into the very warmth that saved his life that night.
One winter, a heavy snowstorm trapped the villagers in their homes. Luca ran out of firewood and, weakened by a fever, found himself shivering in the dark. Just as he felt he could no longer bear the cold, there was a heavy thumping at his door. Doamne ajuta ma sa iert
"I saw no smoke from your chimney, Luca," Stefan said gruffly, refusing to meet his eyes. "Doamne, ajută-mă să iert," he whispered one last time