Saint:
I can’t help but grin as I watch Shay with tiny Phoenix tucked securely in her arms as I slowly navigate the hallway with her wheelchair. It’s been exactly a week since she first woke up, a week of cautious optimism, of learning how to be parents together, and of watching Shay steadily regain her strength. The doctors say she’s making remarkable progress, though the shadow of her injuries and coma still lingers. For me, every small victory—like seeing her smile without wincing—feels like a gift I never thought I’d get again.
We’re officially being discharged today, both Shay and Phoenix declared stable enough to go home. The idea of home has taken on a new significance. Our house, once a battleground of memories, now feels like a place we can begin again. Still, I’d be lying if I
