Charles was overwhelmed, his heart pounding in his chest. The rush of emotion was too much for his weakened body. He''d only juste to, and before he could say a single word, he slipped right back into unconsciousness.


    This time, Andrew didn''t panic. He watched the monitor, saw that the numbers were steady, and turned to Francis. "Charles is okay. He''s just too weak right now —he needs sleep, that''s all." He waved for the emergency staff to leave, wanting to give Charles the peace he needed most: rest.


    ...


    Next door, Evelyn kept her silent vigil at Charlie''s bedside. She''d heard Charles had woken up, but didn''t go to see him, didn''t even ask how he was doing. Her whole world was right there, in her daughter.


    She sat at the edge of the bed, her gaze gentle and unwavering, drinking in the sight of Charlie''s pale, fragile face. She held her daughter''s hand, brushing her fingers softly through Charlie''s fine hair. Every now and then, she would lean down and press a warm kiss to Charlie''s cool hand, as if she could will her back to life.


    Time crawled by, minute by minute. Charlie had been unconscious for hours- more than a dozen-and still showed no signs of waking. At first, Evelyn waited quietly, but as the hours dragged on, worry gnawed at her.


    Andrew tried to reassure her again and again. "Charlie''s really okay," he promised. "She''s just weak, that''s all." But Evelyn couldn''t help the fear that kept creeping in. Her mind kept reying the past: that same pale face, years ago, being rushed into the ER because of kidney failure-and never opening her eyes again.


    To this day, Evelyn didn''t understand how the daughter she''d watched die had somehowe back. But right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Charlie was here, alive, breathing. That miracle made Evelyn even more terrified of losing her again.


    "Ms. Evelyn, Charlie won''t wake up for a while," Andrew said softly. "Let me look after her. Why don''t you get some rest?" He was worried-Evelyn hadn''t slept in over twenty-four hours.


    But she just shook her head. She couldn''t bring herself to leave, couldn''t let Charlie out of her sight. She was beyond exhausted, but her eyes might as well have been glued to Charlie, desperate to keep her daughter from slipping away again.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in the next room,


    Charles was battling his own pain. After hours of drifting in and out, he finally forced his heavy eyelids open. Every breath sent a jolt of pain through his body, making his vision swim, cold sweat clinging to his hair and forehead. It felt like his


    weakness was a lead nket, pressing all the air out of his lungs.


    "Charles, you''re awake. How are you feeling?" Andrew had heard him stir and came over right away, checking his vitals. His brow stayed furrowed with worry. He''d run a thorough check while Charles slept-he was stable now, out of the woods, but still dangerously weak.


    Charles took a shaky breath, gathered what little strength he had, and said, "I''m fine." His voice was faint and unsteady.


    "Help me sit up."


    "Charles, Charlie''s right next door with Ms. Evelyn. She''s alright. You don''t need to worry about her. You need to focus on getting better," Andrew said, knowing exactly why Charles wanted to get up, but not willing to let him risk it.


    "Andrew," Charles rasped, fixing him with a tired but determined look, "When Charlie was in the hospital with kidney failure, I never visited her. She called, asked me toe, but thought she was making it up. I said some terrible things."


    "This time, I want to be there. I want Charlie to wake up and see both her mom and dad by her side."


    He knew he wasn''t strong enough to take care of Charlie, not really. But he needed to be there for her. Deep down, he knew that''s what Charlie wanted most -for her dad to be there. He couldn''t let her down again.


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