Ashley climbed in beside her with zero hesitation and tugged the blanket over them both. “Hannah MontanaorHigh School Musical?”
Ali didn’t even blink. “Hannah Montana. Season one. Chaos and bad wigs.”
Ashley grinned. “You’re my soulmate.”
They pressed play and let the old theme song fill the room, warm and bright and perfectly nostalgic.
Superman
Dylan
Dylan adjusted the backwards ball cap on his head and shoved his phone into his pocket, trying not to smile too hard.
He was still riding the high from that early morning FaceTime—Ali in bed, sleepy and beautiful, whisperinglove youlike it wasn’t the most important thing he’d heard in years.
His chest hadn’t stopped buzzing since.
“Bro,” Rocky said, bumping his shoulder as they stepped through the hospital’s glass doors. “You’ve got thatI just got a love letter or a lap danceface. Which was it?”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Neither. Shut up.”
Rocky just laughed, holding the door for a nurse as they made their way down the brightly colored hallway. The Orlando Tritons had done regular visits with the children’s hospital for years—selfies, high fives, autographs, stuffed mascots. Dylan never missed a chance to show up. Not just because it mattered to the team, but because it mattered tohim.
And this morning, it mattered even more. He was grounded. Clearheaded. Still wearing the warmth of Ali’s voice like armor.
A tiny hand tugged at his hoodie before they made it to the playroom.
He looked down.
A girl in purple princess pajamas grinned up at him, cheeks still round with baby fat and one of those IV stands rolling at her side.
“Are you the football guy?” she asked, eyes wide.
Dylan crouched down to her level. “I might be. Depends who’s asking.”
She giggled, hugging her IV pole closer. “I saw you on TV. You jumped over that guy likewhoooosh!” She lifted one arm like she was flying. “That was awesome.”
Rocky barked out a laugh behind them. “He practices that in front of mirrors.”
“I do not,” Dylan muttered, then turned back to her. “What’s your name?”
“Emma,” she said proudly. “And this is Tempest.” She patted the IV stand lovingly. “She helps me feel better. She’s also the Tritons’ dragon, but I let her live here now.”
Dylan blinked, then grinned so wide it hurt. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
Emma beamed. “She used to be named Sparkle Bug, but then I saw Tempest on your team’s coloring book.”
“Smart call. Tempest is way tougher.”
“Shebreathes lightning,” Emma whispered like it was a secret.
Rocky leaned over. “So do I after team chili night.”
“Gross,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose.
“Exactly,” Dylan said, tossing Rocky a glare. “You’re gonna traumatize the poor girl.”
Emma just laughed—bright, loud, full of life—and Dylan felt something loosen in his chest. This was why they came. This was the good stuff. Forget the interviews and the cameras. This? This mattered more than any highlight reel.
