His smirk widens, the kind that makes my heart do stupid things in my chest.
“Right,” he says.
Dr. Reeves glances down at the chart again, scribbles something across the page, then closes it.
“Well,” he says, looking between Dad and me. “This is a very good start. I’m going to let you all talk for a bit. But your dad is still very early in recovery, so try not to tire him out too much.”
“Thank you,” I say again.
Dr. Reeves gives the nurse a small nod before stepping out of the room. The nurse moves to the side of the bed, checking something on the IV line and adjusting the monitor. She stays nearby but keeps her distance, giving us space.
Dad’s gaze drifts back to me, locking onto my face with that steady attention I have missed so much.
“Sch… ool.”
It takes him a moment to get the rest of the sentence out. His tongue fights with the sounds. His mouth battles the words.
“How… is… school.”
Even after everything, he still wants to know about my life.
I hesitate, just for a second.
“I…” I start, then stop. “I… haven’t really been going.”
“Why?”
One word. But it carries that same firm tone he always uses when he knows I’m about to give him an answer he won’t accept. The tone that signals there better be a damn good reason.
“Because I’ve been here,” I say. My fingers tighten around his hand again. “I didn’t want to leave you. I couldn’t just sit in class and pretend everything was normal when you were...”
I trail off. I can’t even finish that sentence.
Dad watches me, taking in my face—my red eyes and the exhaustion written across every feature.
“No.” The word comes out clearer this time. Stronger. “Sch... ool.” He pauses, gathering strength again.
His jaw works as he forces the next word out. “Go.”
My throat tightens. “Dad—”
“No.” He squeezes my fingers with the hand that still obeys him. The grip is weak but persistent. “You... go.”
There is no arguing when he uses that tone, even with slurred speech and half his face frozen. That is still my dad beneath all the damage. School matters to him. My future matters to him. My education, my life, and everything he has worked so hard to give me.
I hesitate because part of me still doesn’t want to leave this room. Not when I just got him back.
Dad’s eyes suddenly flick to Jace.
Jace straightens a little. Tension creeps back into his shoulders.
Dad takes another slow breath, gathering his strength.
“Please... make... her go.”
“Oh my God,” I mutter, as heat floods my face again. “Are you seriously recruiting him right now?”
“Yes, Sir.” Jace nods, voice serious and respectful. “I’ll make sure she goes.”
