job.”
She wiped at her tears.
“It was about you deciding I couldn’t handle the truth.”
Then she turned toward me.
Or rather, toward Hope.
Her face softened immediately.
She slowly walked across the room.
“Can I hold her?”
I didn’t hesitate.
I placed Hope carefully into her mother’s arms.
The moment Melissa held her daughter against her chest, she began to cry.
Not the desperate cry from the hospital.
This was different.
It was grief, relief, love, anger, and gratitude all mixed together.
She kissed Hope’s forehead again and again.
“My baby,” she whispered.
I let them have that moment before I spoke.
“Dr. Patel called me earlier.”
Melissa looked up.
“He said Hope’s case appears mild. She’ll likely need surgery during her first months and follow-up therapy. But she’s been given an excellent chance of living a full, active life.”
Melissa closed her eyes and held Hope tighter.
