### Chapter Twelve: The Warmth Within
The next few days blurred into a cautious rhythm. His parents kept their word, calling each morning with updates—Dr. Ellis had ordered tests, a wheelchair was on its way, a specialist from the city might visit next week. They came by every afternoon, bringing small things: a thicker blanket, a thermos of soup from their mother, a promise of more to come. Lila watched them like a hawk, her sharp eyes tracking every move, but she didn't push them away. Not yet.
Syan felt the change in small ways. The new blanket was heavy, warm against the winter chill seeping through the walls. The soup—vegetable, with a hint of herbs—tasted better than burnt toast, though he'd never tell Lila that. And when Dr. Ellis returned, she brought a portable monitor to check his vitals, her hands gentle as she worked. "Your heart's strong," she'd said, a note of surprise in her voice. "You're a fighter."
He hadn't known what to say to that either, but Lila had grinned, fierce and proud. "Told you," she'd whispered later. "Dragon."
The wheelchair arrived on the fourth day, a clunky thing with creaky wheels that his father wrestled through the door. "Needs some oil," he'd muttered, tinkering with it while Lila hovered, half-curious, half-wary. When it was ready, she helped Syan into it, her hands steady as she adjusted his legs.
"Feel okay?" she asked, her voice close.
"Yeah," he said, surprised at how strange it felt—to sit up, to move, even just a little. The chair was stiff, awkward, but it was more than he'd had in years. "Weird, but okay."
She pushed him forward, the wheels squeaking as they rolled across the floor. "Look at us," she said, laughing. "Team Stillness, on the move."
His father watched from the corner, a faint smile tugging at his mouth—the first Syan could remember hearing in his voice. "Needs a tune-up," he said. "I'll fix it tomorrow."
"Thanks," Syan said, the word slipping out before he could stop it. It hung there, small but real, and his father just nodded, like he understood.
That night, Lila read more of the book, her voice weaving the dragon's triumph over the knight's icy spear. The story felt closer now, its battles echoing their own—quiet victories, hard-won against the cold. When she finished, she set the book down and leaned against him, the wheelchair a solid presence beside the bed.
"They're still here," she said, soft and thoughtful. "Mom and Dad. They keep coming back."
"Yeah," he said. "They do."
"Do you think… maybe they mean it?" Her voice was tentative, testing a hope she wasn't sure she could hold.
"Maybe," he said, honest but careful. "We'll know soon enough."
She nodded against him, her hair brushing his shoulder. "As long as we're together, I don't care what they do."
"Together," he agreed, the word a vow.
Outside, the wind howled, but it couldn't reach them—not tonight. Inside, the room glowed with a warmth that wasn't just the blanket or the soup, but something deeper, forged in the bond they'd built and the fragile trust they were starting to mend. The stillness wasn't gone, but it was softer now, lit by a flicker of tomorrow they could finally begin to believe in.
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Let me know if you'd like an epilogue or any tweaks to these chapters! This feels like a solid arc, but I'm happy to keep going if you want more.