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.

The sight of mother

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

a tight line. He'd never actually seen Jessica and 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

this way, but the

realized his childhood engagement to Jessica might not stand

made her choice all those

gnawed

he

Timothy have that

be many years before Yates finally

crawled by, each passing second an

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

his

neither long nor short, lasted about three hours. At last, the doors to the operating

He had led the operation as chief surgeon—a

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