Slowly, Ethan’s muscles strengthened. He learned to stand with support. Every session ended with Jonathan whispering, “You’re getting closer, son. You’re getting stronger.”
One autumn afternoon, nearly six months later, Ethan managed to take two trembling steps toward his father. Jonathan’s eyes filled with tears.
“You did it, buddy,” he said, his voice breaking. “You really did it.”
Ethan smiled. “Lila said I could, remember?”
Jonathan nodded, looking toward the park beyond their window, as if expecting to see her standing there again in her faded blue dress.
He never did.
But in his heart, he knew she hadn’t needed to stay. She had done what no doctor or fortune could—opened his eyes to truth and reminded him what real healing meant: not money, not medicine, but love, honesty, and hope.
And for the first time in three long years, Jonathan Pierce finally felt at peace.
