Page 26 of The One Who Risked it All

I nodded, glancing over at Sophia. “She’s a good one,” I commented. She was completely absorbed in whatever book she was reading.

Samantha followed my gaze and smiled. “Yeah, she really is.” Her tone was wistful, almost sad.

I’d often noticed an especially deep bond between Samantha and her daughter—something special and strong. It made me wonder how much Samantha really had to go through to raise Sophia on her own. The town knew next to nothing about Sophia’s father, and I could never help but wonder what his story was. Samantha had always been so tight-lipped about it, and I respected her privacy, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

I didn’t pry, of course. That wouldn’t have been right. But it was hard not to notice that, while Samantha had a lot of friends in town, she often seemed like she was keeping people at arm’s length. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to raise Sophia without the support of a partner, especially in a small town like this where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

“Boys,” I called out, grabbing their attention, “let’s take a look at the new books. I want you all to pick something.”

Joey was already rifling through a stack of board books, pulling them out of the bin and tossing them aside like he was looking for buried treasure. Linc, on the other hand, wasfascinated by the animal encyclopedias. He loved learning about different species, his curiosity unending.

About twenty minutes later, and a hundred reshelved books, I wrangled all the boys. “Alright, boys, time to head out,” I called, clapping my hands together. The library’s quiet atmosphere had been a nice change of pace, but I knew the boys wouldn’t last much longer without creating some chaos.

Joey and Lincoln raced toward me, and I ushered them toward the door, giving Samantha a final wave. “Thanks for having us, Samantha. We’ll see you soon.”

“You’re always welcome, Carla,” she called after me, her voice warm and genuine. “Take care.”

As we left the library and the boys started their usual running-around routine, I felt a small pang of something in my chest. There was a quiet strength to Samantha that I longed for—something I wished I could carry with me when times got tough.

Maybe I wouldn’t be letting Eli’s presence this week send me into such a tailspin. Samantha sure seemed like nothing rattled her.

CHAPTER 10

Elijah

Ipaused at the threshold of Room 302, my hand hovering over the door handle. The antiseptic smell of the hospital corridor burned my nostrils, reminding me of countless emergency runs. But this time, I wasn’t here to deliver a stranger. I was here to face my father.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and pushed open the door. The sight of Dad propped up in bed hit me like a punch to the gut. He looked better than he had a couple days ago, but that wasn’t saying much. His skin was still ashen against the crisp white sheets, and the usual larger-than-life presence I associated with Harold Wells had shrunken considerably.

But as his eyes met mine, I saw that familiar stubborn glint. Some things never changed.

“Hey, old man,” I said, plastering on my best easy-going grin. “Looks like they’re treating you pretty well in here.”

Papa’s eyebrows furrowed, but I caught the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Eli. They let just anyone in here?”

As I settled into the chair, I couldn’t help but think how surreal this was. The great Harold Wells, looking so... mortal. It was like seeing Superman laid low by kryptonite. I’d spent somuch of my life trying to measure up to this man, and now here he was, looking frail and vulnerable.

But those eyes – those eyes were the same as always. Watching me, assessing me, waiting to see if I’d finally do something to make him proud. I’d have thought he would have learned not to hold his breath.

I cleared my throat, pushing away the heavy thoughts. “So, how’s the food here? Up to your gourmet standards?”

Dad snorted. “If by ‘gourmet’ you mean ‘bland mush,’ then sure. I’d kill for one of your mother’s pot roasts right about now.”

“I’ll sneak you in some contraband next time.” I winked, but my heart wasn’t in the joke. There was an elephant in the room, and its name was Carla Putnam. But after the last several days, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I needed to understand.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Listen, Dad... there’s something I wanted to ask you about.” I paused, searching for the right words. “This whole thing with the Putnams... don’t you think it’s time to let it go?”

The change was instant. Dad’s face hardened, his jaw clenching tight. “There’s nothing to discuss about that family,” he said, his voice flat and cold.

I leaned forward, frustration bubbling up inside me. “Come on. It’s been years. Whatever happened between you and Jim Putnam—“

“I said, there’s nothing to discuss,” Dad cut me off, his eyes flashing with a familiar stubbornness. He turned his head away, staring out the window.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This was going about as well as I’d expected. But I couldn’t just let it go. Not when Carla’s smile haunted my dreams, not when the thought of her made my heart race like I was facing down a five-alarm fire.

“Dad, please,” I tried again, my voice softer this time. “I’m not asking for details. I just... I need to understand.”

The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. I watched his profile, the stubborn set of his jaw, the way his fingers twisted the thin hospital blanket. My mind raced, searching for the right words to break through his defenses.

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