Richard’s car screeched to a halt in the hospital parking lot, and he jumped out, barely bothering to lock the car behind him.
He sprinted through the automatic doors, his mind racing. Grandma Eleanor was awake—finally—but her condition was still fragile.
The mere thought of losing her had haunted him all morning, and now, he was determined to get answers.
He burst into the room, and there she was. Grandma Eleanor lay propped up against a hospital bed, her frail frame dwarfed by the white sheets. Her eyes, tired and swollen, widened as she saw him. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Richard’s throat tightened.
“Grandma…” he whispered, rushing to her side. He gently took her hand, careful not to disturb the IV line taped to her wrist. “Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere
