Time can''t be rewound.


    Nothing could ever be undone.


    He couldn''t go back, couldn''t start over, couldn''t erase the pain that Charlie had endured because of his neglect and indifference.


    All that was left was the present-and he''d hold onto it with everything he had.


    From now on, he would do his best to be the father Charlie deserved.


    He''d give her everything he possibly could.


    He''d never disappear from her life again.


    ...


    Andrew watched Charles, whose eyes were full of guilt and remorse, and just couldn''t bring himself to step in.


    He understood what Charlie''s miraculous return meant to Charles.


    Nothing mattered more to him than being by Charlie''s side-not even his own life.


    So all Andrew could do was keep Charles''s health from crumbling any further.


    He did what he could to minimize the strain on Charles''s battered body, gave him an injection to help him hold on a little longer.


    Half an hourter, Andrew signaled for Francis''s people to help him settle Charles into the wheelchair he''d had customized forfort and ease.


    He attached the saline bag to the chair, double-checking everything.


    When all was set, Andrew wheeled Charles next door to Charlie''s room himself.


    ...


    In the room next door, Evelyn hadn''t slept for a full day and night. She finally gave


    in to exhaustion, lying down beside Charlie. She watched her daughter until, without realizing it, she drifted off.


    The door opened so quietly it barely made a sound.


    Andrew pushed Charles into the room.


    Charles''s eyes found the bed immediately, and his whole expression softened.


    Andrew brought him to the bedside and leaned in, whispering, "Charles, call if you need anything. I''m right next door."


    "Okay," Charles murmured, never taking his eyes off Evelyn and Charlie.


    He saw Evelyn''s hand wrapped tightly around Charlie''s small fingers, her brow still furrowed even in sleep.


    Charles reached out, slow and gentle, smoothing out the crease between her brows with the softest touch.


    Evelyn was too exhausted to notice; his hand was so careful she didn''t even stir.


    With her brow rxed, she sank into a deeper sleep.


    Charles''s gaze shifted to the little girl nestled in Evelyn''s arms.


    He looked at her as if she were the rarest treasure on earth-something lost and miraculously found.


    He noticed Charlie''s lips were dry again.


    With obvious effort, Charles bent


    over, every movement slow and


    deliberate, pain etching lines into his face, sweat beading at his temple.


    Breathing shallowly, he reached for a sterile cotton swab from the cup on the nightstand, his hand trembling with weakness.


    He dipped it in warm water, then, with infinite patience, dabbed the moisture onto Charlie''s parched lips, one gentle stroke at a time.


    His focus was absolute. He pushed aside his own pain, pouring all his care and love into tending to Charlie.


    Minutes ticked by.


    Charlie''s lips stayed soft and hydrated.


    ...


    "Charlie!"


    Evelyn jolted awake.


    Her first reflex was to check on the little girl in her arms—


    Seeing Charlie''s steady breathing, she finally let out a breath she''d been holding.


    Then she realized she wasn''t alone in the room.


    Charles was there.


    She looked up, her eyes cold and hard.


    Charles felt his throat tighten.


    Afraid she''d kick him out, he spoke first, his voice rough and pleading "Eve, when Charlie needed me, was never there. Not once. I let her down again and again. I failed as her father."


    "This time, I want to stay by her side."


    "Eve, I know I was wrong. I truly want


    e away. Let me sel


    up to Charlie. Please,


    and look after her. Please?


    Evelyn wanted nothing more than to show Charles the door.


    To her, love that arriveste is worth less than nothing.


    The same goes for fatherly love that only shows up when everything else is gone.


    But that was her own pain.


    She knew she couldn''t speak for Charlie.


    No one knew better than her how much Charlie cared for her father, deep down.


    She didn''t know if Charlie still longed for him, still needed her dad.


    She couldn''t-wouldn''t-make that choice for Charlie.


    So Evelyn pressed her lips together and left the words unsaid.


    She looked down at her daughter and softly kissed Charlie''s forehead.


    Just as she was about to leave, she saw Charlie''s eyshes flutter. Suddenly, without warning, Charlie''s eyes opened.