Chloe, now eight years old and completely recovered, marched into the room carrying a little clay pot she had spent nearly an hour choosing at a nearby garden center. Brandon walked behind her holding a bag of fresh potting soil, while Rosalyn carried a small green plant cutting.
“Was this the exact window?” Chloe asked, pointing toward the ledge.
“Right here,” Rosalyn confirmed with a nod.
Brandon carefully placed the clay pot onto the newspaper.
“Pebbles have to go first so the water can drain properly,” Chloe instructed with the confidence of an experienced gardener.
“Since when have you been an expert in plants?” Brandon teased affectionately.
“Ever since a flowerpot helped save my life,” Chloe replied casually while scattering several small stones across the bottom.
Brandon paused briefly, visibly moved by her answer, while Rosalyn handed Chloe a fresh spider-plant cutting taken from the staff breakroom. Chloe carefully positioned its roots in the middle of the pot while Brandon steadied the stem and Rosalyn filled the surrounding space with clean soil.
