After Naylor set Henry down, the boy walked straight toward Jessica.

Jessica was leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed anxiously on the doors to the operating room. She was silently praying that Timothy's surgery would go

smoothly.

The last thing she wanted was to owe him such a life-altering debt.

All her attention was wrapped around the worries in her heart.

Suddenly, a small, warm hand slipped into hers.

Glancing to her side, she saw Henry looking up at her with innocent, searching eyes.

His expression was riddled with guilt, uncertainty, and a hint of fear.

Henry was afraid she might push him away.

The look in her son's eyes made Jessica's heart soften.

She didn't say a word or pull away. She simply let Henry hold her hand in his steady, silent grip.

over at them. The sight of mother and

recognizing each other at first, but still drawn together by something deep and unspoken. No matter the years or the distance, that pull remained,

Henry together before; this was his first time, and the image unsettled him. It was as if Jessica and Henry, standing hand in hand, belonged exclusively to Timothy—even though Timothy wasn't even with them at that moment, it felt as though his name

felt this way, but the feeling was

childhood engagement to Jessica might not stand

made her

resentment gnawed at

had he lost

have that he

be many years before

passing

say a word—not even "Mom." He was afraid that if he spoke, Jessica would snap out of her daze

and his mother had been this close-how many years since they'd

lasted about three hours. At last, the doors

had led the operation as chief surgeon—a

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