“I understand.”

Ernest gave a weighted nod, his shoulders sagging under invisible burdens. “I comprehend your fear… but Linda, we have to attempt this path.”

The alternative offered only a single, inevitable destination—death. The most recent imaging had already revealed the metastasis beginning its deadly progression.

“I will arrange access to the most accomplished specialists and cutting-edge treatments available,” he added.

Linda shut her eyes tightly and turned her head toward the wall, dismissing his presence.

“I want to rest now. Please leave.”

His reassurances earned no response. Ernest recognized her need for space to process and refrained from pressing further.

“Very well, I’ll take my leave.”

He rose from his chair and departed without another word.

The moment the door clicked shut, Linda’s eyes snapped open with startling intensity. She fixed her gaze on the sterile ceiling above while tears traced soundless trails along her temples.

When evening shadows stretched across the city at six o’clock, Ernest returned home.

Elissa stood beside Locke at the sink, helping him scrub his small hands clean before their evening meal.

Hearing the sound from the entrance, she quickly dried Locke’s hands with a towel. “Your daddy’s home.”

“Daddy?” Locke’s entire face lit up with pure delight.

Ernest’s demanding schedule had kept him from sharing dinner with his son for far too long.

Your story hub g?lnσν?s?com

Locke spun around and bolted toward the sound of his father’s voice. “Daddy!”

“Hey, buddy.” Ernest crouched low and swept Locke into his arms with practiced ease.

Elissa approached them, her sleeves still rolled past her elbows, a gentle smile softening her features.

“Miss Holland.” Ernest smiled at her.

Locke wrapped his arms around Ernest’s neck and wondered aloud, “It really is you, Daddy! How did Miss Holland know before she even saw you?”

“Your father’s footsteps,” Elissa answered without thinking, completely missing the significance of her response.

“Wow!” Locke exclaimed with obvious admiration. “Miss Holland has incredible powers! She recognized Daddy just from the sound of his walking!”

“Absolutely correct.” Ernest arched one eyebrow, a faintly amused smile tugging at his lips. “How remarkable that you’ve memorized the pattern of my footsteps so thoroughly.”

Elissa froze, crimson heat rushing to her cheeks, and stuttered defensively, “It was merely a fortunate guess.”

“I find that highly questionable,” Ernest teased, his grin lingering as he enjoyed her discomfort.

.

.

.