Herbert turned his head, his expression weary.
“Thank you,” Sallie said softly.
Herbert looked away, not saying a word. He just didn’t have the strength anymore.
Jessica gently pushed his wheelchair out of the room.
Henry watched as Jessica disappeared down the hallway, tears shimmering in his eyes. He wanted to run after her, but he was afraid she’d push him away.
Just then, Timothy was wheeled out.
All eyes immediately shifted to him.
He was still unconscious, drifting in a medicated sleep. But since the doctors had confirmed he was out of danger, they didn’t send him back to the ICU—just a regular hospital room this time.
A nurse came over, her tone firm but kind. There were too many people crowding around, she explained, and it would disturb the patient’s rest. Timothy was still under anesthesia and wouldn’t be waking up soon, so they couldn’t all stay in the room.
So Yates, Kane, and Vince waited outside.
Sallie, Thurston, Naylor, and Henry were allowed in.
Sallie leaned over to Thurston and whispered, “Go tell Grandpa the good news. If he hears Timothy’s going to wake up, he’ll be out of bed in no time.”
“Alright, I’ll go right now,” Thurston replied, hurrying off.
Henry’s gaze lingered on Timothy’s battered form, his heart aching. “Aunt Sallie, why did Dad get hurt so badly?”
Sallie’s voice was gentle. “A beam fell on him. It could have been so much worse, but he’s safe now. Don’t worry, Henry.”
Just then, the nurse called—Henry still needed an IV. Naylor took Henry by the hand and led him out.
Soon, only Sallie was left in the room. She pulled over a chair and sat by the bed, finally allowing herself to breathe. The tension that had gripped her heart all day slowly eased. She reached for Timothy’s hand, only to find his fingers clenched tightly into a fist.
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