Chapter 6 - Healing Wounds
Discharge day was an event. The hospital staff lined the hallway of the pediatric ward, clapping and cheering as Mom pushed Owen and Silas in a brand-new, state-of-the-art double stroller, while I walked beside Grandpa Thomas, holding his warm, calloused hand.
Instead of going back to the dark, isolated house on the hill, we went to a temporary, sunlit cottage by the lake that my grandparents had rented while waiting for us. For the first time in my life, I had a bedroom with a real bed, fluffy pink pillows, and a window that looked out over sparkling water instead of dead trees and gray dirt.
The emotional scars, however, took longer to heal. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would wake up in a cold sweat, imagining the scrape of the metal cart wheel against the doorframe, convinced I was still freezing in the dark hallway.
During one of those nights, when I was sitting on the wooden porch wrapped in a thick wool blanket, Mom stepped out into the cool night air. She sat down beside me on the swing, pulling me close against her side.
"Can't sleep, bug?" she asked softly.
I leaned my head against her shoulder. "I keep thinking about the cart, Mom. What if we didn't make it? What if those doors were locked?"
Mom kissed the top of my head, her arm tightening around me. "We did make it, Elara. Because of you. But it’s okay to be scared. What happened to us was terrifying. The important thing is that we aren't hiding anymore. Your grandparents are here, we are safe, and your brothers are growing like weeds."
"Do you think we'll ever go back to that old house?" I asked quietly.
"Never," Mom said firmly, her voice filled with fierce resolve. "That chapter of our lives is closed forever. We are turning a brand new page, Elara. Starting tomorrow, you get to do something very important."
May you like
I looked up, curious. "What's that?"
"Go to school," she smiled. "Be a normal seven-year-old kid who plays jump rope and colors outside the lines, instead of worrying about how to survive."
