**Denver General – 7:42 a.m.**
Arthur sat upright in his hospital bed, sunlight catching in his dark hair as Leah fed him spoonfuls of overcooked oatmeal.
“This is… edible," he said, trying not to grimace.
Sophie leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling. “That's the most generous review of hospital food I've ever heard."
Leah giggled. “I added sugar. A lot."
“Explains the crunch," Arthur muttered.
He reached out and caught Sophie's gaze. “How long was I out?"
“Fourteen days."
His hand tightened on the spoon. “That long?"
“You coded twice," she said softly. “I stayed. So did she."
He looked at Leah, who beamed and pointed at her drawing taped to the window—three stick figures under a sun labeled:
**“Me, Mom, and Dad. Finally."**
Arthur's throat tightened. “You kept he
