After the laughter faded and the door clicked shut behind Hunter, the air in the room shifted—softer, warmer. It felt like we’d carved out a space for something more than survival: peace.
Janice settled into the chair beside my bed, resting her hand over her bump. Her fingers tapped gently, as if she were checking that everything inside her was still okay. She had this quiet calm now that contrasted the storm she’d just unleashed on Hunter.
“I’m glad I caught you alone,” she said, her voice lower now. “I figured you’d need someone real nearby… someone not trying to fix you, just sit with you.”
My throat tightened. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed that until she said it.
“You’re not wrong,” I murmured.
She looked around the hospital room, then leaned closer. “Can I be honest?”
I
