Ethan felt his breath catch — not from sadness, but something softer, deeper. Pride, maybe. Or hope.

He could see her talking now, her voice small but brave. The teacher said something that made her smile. For the first time in months, that smile reached her eyes.

It was in that moment Ethan realized — healing wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet. It was a child’s small step into a classroom, a father’s deep breath on the other side of the door.