Chapter 3: Healing the Past
The next morning, the golden sunlight filtered softly through the windows of the private recovery room. Grace lay in the center of the bed, looking small but completely out of danger, her fever entirely gone.
Thomas sat in a chair by the bedside, looking older than ever, but peaceful. Michael walked in, carrying two cups of coffee. He handed one to his father and stood looking down at his sleeping daughter.
"I’m sorry, Michael," Thomas said quietly, staring into his cup. "I should have told you years ago. I let my anger about you leaving the farmhouse cloud my judgment, and I kept her from you."
Michael placed a hand on his father's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "No, Dad. I'm the one who walked away from the family. I was so focused on saving strangers that I forgot about the people who needed me most. You protected her. You raised her. Thank you."
Just then, a small whimper came from the bed. Grace’s big, hazel eyes fluttered open. She looked around the unfamiliar room in confusion until her gaze landed on Thomas.
"Grandpa...?" she whispered weakly.
"I'm here, sweetheart," Thomas said, leaning forward and taking her tiny hand.
Grace then shifted her eyes to Michael, who was standing there, his chest aching with a love he had never known existed. "Are you the nice doctor who made the bad dreams go away?" she asked innocently.
May you like
Michael knelt beside the bed, tears finally spilling over his eyelids. He gently took her other hand, noticing how perfectly it fit into his.
"Yes, Grace. I'm the doctor," Michael said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked from his daughter to his father, realizing his broken family was finally whole again. "But from now on... I'm also your dad. And I'm never leaving you again."
