SIGNS OF PROGRESS

Richie stood at Leah's bedside two weeks after the accident, watching as she slept. Her breathing was steady, and her face looked peaceful.

The machines surrounding her were no longer terrifying to him; they were signs of progress now. Signs that she was getting better. He smiled faintly, remembering how much darker everything seemed just days ago.

The boys were sitting in the corner of the room, playing with some toys Dazzle had brought for them to keep them occupied.

They were quieter than usual, but Richie could tell they were just as hopeful as he was. They had been through so much these days, yet they still managed to be helpful in ways they could.

The doctor came in, his clipboard in hand, and gave Richie a nod before checking on Leah’s vitals. “She’s doing much better,” the doctor said, scribbling something down. “The baby’s fine as well. Everything looks good.”

Richie exhaled slowly, letting all his worries out “Thank God,” he whispered. “But… her head? How’s the injury?”

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