“Agreed,” Brandon replied with a smile.
“And whenever something tastes terrible, I’m allowed to ask questions before eating it,” Chloe announced.
Brandon raised one finger teasingly. “We’ll negotiate that particular rule whenever broccoli appears at dinner.”
“No negotiations,” Chloe giggled.
Beyond the hospital window, the gentle sounds of city traffic and distant conversation drifted through the morning. No sense of immediate danger remained inside the room anymore, only the quiet comfort of beginning again.
Where the d@maged black flowerpot had once stood one year earlier, healthy green leaves now stretched toward the morning sunlight, with one crystal-clear drop of fresh water resting at the very tip of a leaf.
Chloe watched the sparkling droplet for a moment, reached out and took her father’s hand, then stretched across to hold Rosalyn’s hand with her other palm.
“Come on,” Chloe said happily, pulling both adults toward the doorway. “All this gardening has made me really hungry.”
Brandon looked toward Rosalyn, and Rosalyn returned his smile before they followed the little girl together down the hallway.
