### Chapter Twenty-Two: The Breath of Change
The oxygen unit's hum became a quiet companion over the next few days, a steady pulse threading through the house. Syan noticed the difference almost immediately—his breaths came easier, the tight ache in his chest loosening just enough to feel like a small rebellion against his body's limits. It wasn't freedom, not fully, but it was a crack in the wall that had boxed him in for years.
Lila adapted fast, fiddling with the unit's settings under Dr. Ellis's instructions, her hands quick and sure. "You sound better," she said one morning, perched beside him as she adjusted the nasal cannula. "Less like you're fighting for air."
"Feels better," he admitted, his voice clearer, less strained. "Still weird, though."
"Weird's good," she said, grinning. "Means it's working."
His parents kept their pace, showing up each day with something new—a bag of apples, a stack of clean towels, a promise of the motorized chair arriving soon. His mother's strength returned slowly, her cough fading, and she started lingering longer, sitting with them while Lila read or chattered about school. His father took to tinkering outside, fixing the porch steps that had sagged under years of neglect.
One afternoon, as the sun broke through the clouds for the first time in weeks, Lila wheeled Syan out onto the ramp. The air was sharp, tinged with the green scent of spring pushing through the mud. "Feel that?" she said, tilting her face up. "Warm. Finally."
"Yeah," he said, letting the faint heat brush his skin. The oxygen unit whirred softly at his side, a tether but also a lifeline. "Nice."
His father joined them, wiping grease from his hands after adjusting the ramp's railing. "Thought you'd like it out here," he said, his tone gruff but warm. "Been cooped up too long."
"Been cooped up forever," Syan said, dry but not bitter. "This helps."
His father nodded, a rare softness in his silence. "Good. More coming—chair's on its way. You'll be tearing up the yard soon."
Lila laughed, bright and real. "He'll run me over first, probably."
"Count on it," Syan teased, and the sound of their laughter mingled with the breeze, a moment of lightness that felt earned.
That night, his mother stayed late, her voice soft as she spoke from the armchair. "We're trying, Syan. Really trying. I know it's not enough yet, but…"
"It's something," he said, cutting through her hesitation. "I see it."
She paused, then said, "Thank you. For letting us."
Lila, curled beside him, didn't speak, but her hand rested on his, a quiet agreement. The change wasn't just in the air or the tools—it was in them, in the slow breath of trust growing stronger, one day, one choice at a time.
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Let me know if you'd like Chapter 23 or any tweaks here!