Its pages were filled with dates.
“Monday: One bruise on the right leg.”
“Wednesday: Two new bruises.”
“Friday: Reduced appetite.”
He had written down every little detail.
On the last page, there was just one sentence.
“Daniel, I promised I would protect your daughter. Please help me before it’s too late.”
I burst into tears.
Robert took my hand.
“I’ve already lost my son, Sarah. If I lost his little girl too, I don’t know how I could go on living the same life.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
For the first time since Daniel’s death, we cried together.
Emma stayed in the hospital for several days.
The doctors developed a treatment and long-term monitoring plan for her condition.
When we finally returned home, Robert was waiting by the door.
He was holding a small pink toy.
He looked at his granddaughter and smiled.
“Welcome home, my little miracle.”
