The voice on the other end was steady but urgent. It was the cardiologist from the hospital where Ellen had been taken. He said she had regained consciousness and, against expectations, her condition had stabilized.
Tears filled Mike’s eyes and ran down his face. He pulled Annie close and felt, for the first time in days, the crushing weight on his chest begin to lift. It was the first real good news their family had had in what felt like forever.
Annie looked up at her father, confused by his tears, and wiped his face with her small hands. Mike told her in a shaky whisper that Mom was awake and going to be okay. Annie clapped and laughed—a bright, relieved sound that hadn’t been heard in that apartment for months.
A few minutes later, their neighbor, Mrs. Carter, peeked through the open door after hearing the commotion in the hallway. She gasped when she saw Mike bleeding on the floor in his torn uniform. At once she hurried to call for an ambulance.
The paramedics arrived quickly despite the chaos in the city. They lifted Mike carefully onto a stretcher, openly impressed that he had made it home at all. Mrs. Carter promised she would stay with Annie until he got treatment.
The next few weeks passed in a blur, but this time it was a hopeful one. Mike underwent two major surgeries to remove the remaining shrapnel. His hospital room was on the same floor as Ellen’s, which meant they could see each other every day and help each other heal.
