“Got it!” Hadley waved without looking back and walked with her new assistant toward the security gates.

By the following morning, the bandages around Eric’s head had been taken off. Two full weeks of rest and a final checkup had cleared him for release. While Phillips handled the discharge papers, Ferris and Megan stood with the doctor, going over final instructions.

Inside the hospital room, Eric stepped into the wardrobe, slipped out of the gown, and began putting on his own clothes.

When he stepped back out, the caregiver approached holding a small bundle.

“Mr. Scott, would you like to keep any of this?”

Eric’s eyes moved over the items—books he had used to pass the time, a portable music player, and a few scattered personal belongings.

“They’re yours if you want them,” Eric said with a small shake of his head. “I won’t be needing any of that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott. I appreciate it.”

“Hold on a second!” Eric’s voice made her pause just as she turned to leave.

“Yes, Mr. Scott?”

Reaching into the small pile, Eric pulled something out—a red cord with a peach pit dangling at the end.

“Where did this come from?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“It looks like a whistle,” the caregiver replied. “Children love playing with those kinds of things.”

What she didn’t mention was that she had no idea how it ended up among his belongings.

Something in her words made Eric’s expression harden in quiet thought.

Looking uncertain, the caregiver asked, “Do you want me to take it, or should I just throw it away?”

“Don’t!” Eric’s fingers curled tightly around the whistle. “I’ll keep it.”

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“Okay.” With a polite nod, the caregiver stepped back, still puzzled by his reaction.

Resting the whistle in his palm, Eric felt his grip tighten around it.

There wasn’t a clear reason why he needed to keep it. He just knew he did.

“Hey, Eric!”

Both Ferris and Megan stepped into the room.

Without a word, Eric quickly wrapped the red string around the whistle and slid it into his pocket.

Five months later, Hadley wrapped up filming and returned to Srixby.

This time, Brady stood waiting at the airport once again, ready to pick her up.

“Hey, Hadley.” Brady’s eyes swept over her frame, his brows drawing together in concern. “You’ve lost so much weight!”

“Really?” Hadley smiled, her fingers brushing against her cheek. “Just a little, I suppose. Being away from home tends to do that to you.”

“Now that you’re back, you need to rest properly for a while,” Brady fussed, his protective instincts kicking in. “And put some weight back on. You’re far too thin! Tonight, you’re having a proper meal—no excuses!”

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