Eric had just experienced a disturbing dream. Though not quite a nightmare, the vision had jolted him from sleep with unsettling clarity.

In the dream, he trudged down an endless, shadowy path with someone’s weight pressing against his back. Dream logic allowed him to perceive the face of his burden with impossible clarity. Shockingly, Brady’s features stared back at him. The revelation left him bewildered.

Eric fumbled for the bedside lamp and grabbed his phone, desperate to call Hadley and unravel the dream’s meaning. Why would his subconscious conjure images of him carrying Hadley’s brother? But when the screen illuminated, reality crashed over him like ice water. He had no way to reach Hadley—no phone number, no contact information whatsoever.

The following morning, Hadley made her way to the sanatorium. A full night’s sleep had restored much of Nyla’s strength and clarity.

“Nyla,” Hadley greeted her with gentle warmth. Her fingers entwined with Nyla’s weathered ones.

“Good morning. How was your rest?”

“Wonderfully, thank you.” Nyla’s face brightened with contentment. Her expression shifted to one of concern.

“Clare, I hope you rested peacefully as well?”

The name struck Hadley like an unexpected chord. Clare—the name belonged to her beloved maternal grandmother, who had passed years ago. Nyla’s mind had drifted into the past, confusing her with someone long departed.

Hadley chose not to shatter the gentle illusion.

“Nyla, I brought homemade soup today. Would you like some?”

“That sounds perfect,” Nyla said with childlike eagerness.

“I’m quite hungry.”

“Give me just a moment to prepare everything.”

Hadley rose and unpacked the carefully prepared meal, spooning small portions of soup with patient tenderness.

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“How does it taste?” she asked.

Nyla nodded enthusiastically as she took another spoonful, her expression radiating innocent delight.

After finishing the meal and sharing a quiet conversation, Hadley reluctantly prepared to depart.

As Hadley left the facility, Eric’s vehicle pulled into the parking area.

Nyla had been moved to the sun-drenched terrace, where warmth and contentment were lulling her toward sleep.

“Grandma,” Eric murmured as he settled into the chair beside her wheelchair.

“I wanted to spend some time with you today.”

“Oh…” Nyla’s head lifted at the familiar voice. Recognition sparked in her eyes, followed by pure joy.

“Eric, my dear boy!”

Surprise and delight animated her weathered features.

“I can see how much my visit means to you,” Eric said with gentle humor.

“I promise to visit every single day from now on.”

“Oh, my dear…” Nyla’s head moved in a gesture that was both acceptance and protest.

“Your thoughtfulness touches my heart, but I understand how demanding your life is. Don’t burden yourself with daily visits if time doesn’t permit.”

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