Chapter 77
Luca's discharge day arrived on a bright, clear morning, nearly three weeks after the attack that had first brought him to the hospital. He sat in a wheelchair near the entrance, his cast now marked with a scrawl of get-well messages from the handful of classmates who had visited, his ribs healed enough that breathing no longer sent sharp warnings through his side with every movement.
Sol was there, as he had been every single day, signing the final discharge paperwork alongside a nurse while Luca waited, his crutches propped against the side of the wheelchair.
"Ready?" Sol asked, crouching down slightly to meet his eyes.
"More than ready," Luca said, managing a real smile now, something steadier and more genuine than the hollow expressions he'd worn during those first diffi
