I laughed through my tears, brushing her curls away from her face. “That’s my girl. You’re so strong, Ava. Keep fighting, baby.”
The nurse camein moments later, her smile widening as she saw what was happening. “That’s a great sign,” she said warmly, quickly checking Ava’s vitals. “Her body’s starting to respond. Let me notify Dr. Simmons.”
As she left, I turned to Enzo, my chest tight with a mix of relief and hope. “She’s really going to make it, isn’t she?”
Enzo crouched beside me, his hand resting on my knee. “It’s a step in the right direction. She’s not out of the woods yet, but this… this is progress.”
Dr. Simmons arrived shortly after,his expression more relaxed than it had been in days. “The fact that she’s responding is an excellent sign,” he said, his tone reassuring. “Her body is showing resilience, which is exactly what we needed to see.”
“What happens now?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“We’ll continue to monitor her closely,” he explained. “She still has a long road ahead, but this is a very promising development.”
I nodded, clutching Ava’s hand tightly as relief flooded through me. For the first time in days, the weight on my chest began to lift.
As word spreadabout Ava’s progress, messages of support began pouring in. My phone buzzed constantly with texts and social media notifications, each one filled with words of encouragement and hope.
“People are rooting for her,” Elaine said, showing me a post from a local community group. “She’s touched so many lives.”
I smiled through my tears, my heart swelling with gratitude. “It’s overwhelming,” I admitted. “But it means so much to know we’re not alone.”
That evening,as the hospital quieted down, Enzo and I sat together in Ava’s room, the soft glow of the monitors casting faint shadows on the walls. Ava stirred slightly, her fingers twitching against Bunny.
“She’s a fighter,” Enzo said, his voice filled with quiet pride.
“She gets it from you,” I replied, my voice trembling with emotion.
He turned to me, his dark eyes filled with warmth. “She gets it from both of us.”
For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to believe that everything was going to be okay. Ava was fighting, and she wasn’t doing it alone. We were all in this together.
As I postedan update online later that night, thanking everyone for their prayers and support, my heart swelled with gratitude. The messages of hope and love that flooded in reminded me of the strength we’d found in our family, our friends, and even strangers.
Ava’s journey was far from over, but for the first time, the future felt brighter. And as I sat by her bedside, her small hand resting in mine, I knew we’d face whatever came next together.
45
SUMMER
The sunlight streaming through the hospital window was softer today, golden and warm, wrapping Ava’s small room in a comforting glow. She was sitting up in bed, her cheeks pink again, a sparkle in her blue eyes that I hadn’t seen in weeks. Bunny sat beside her, dressed in a fresh new bow tie that Elaine had brought the day before.
“Mommy, look!” Ava said, holding up a coloring book page she had just finished. It was a castle, bright with mismatched colors that somehow worked perfectly together.
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I said, leaning over to admire her work.
“Do you think Bunny would live here?” she asked seriously, tilting her head.
“I think he’d love it,” I said, smiling.
Enzo appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray with Ava’s lunch. “What’s this? A castle for Bunny?” he asked, setting the tray down on the small table beside her bed.
“Yes! Do you think he’d like purple walls?” Ava asked, holding up the page for him to see.
“Purple’s perfect,” he said with a grin, ruffling her curls. “Bunny has excellent taste.”
It was hard to believe how much had changed in just a few weeks. Ava’s recovery had been slow at first, every small step forward celebrated with cautious optimism. But now, she was sitting up, talking, laughing—the Ava we knew and loved was back.
“She’s really getting better,” I said softly to Enzo as Ava started on her lunch.