“I’m coming too,” she said softly.
And so he took her—driving her to the hospital, sitting with her in the harsh fluorescent light of the waiting room, buying her a juice box, wrapping his jacket around her when she shivered.
Hours later, a doctor appeared. “She’s stable. Dehydration, untreated pneumonia, and extreme exhaustion. She’s lucky someone acted quickly.”
Lila’s voice was small. “Is she going to be okay?”
Ryan smiled gently. “She will.”
But he couldn’t shake the image of that cluttered house and the stack of unpaid bills. This wasn’t just one bad day—it was years of quiet struggle.
Over the next few days, Ryan became a constant at the hospital.
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