Lily smiles for the first time in days. A real smile.
Outside, the air is cold, but bright with sunshine. A social worker opens the door to a clean van with warm seats and a car seat for each baby.
The hospital grows smaller behind them. But in her heart, something else grows larger—a sense that the worst is behind them.
That no matter what happens next, they will face it together.
She reaches over and touches her mother’s hand.
“I’m tired,” she says softly.
Her mother looks at her, eyes full of love and sorrow and pride.
“Then rest, baby. You don’t have to be brave alone anymore.”
And for the first time in days, Lily closes her eyes.
Not from fear.
