The black SUV rolled quietly through the winding private driveway. High trees flanked both sides, the rustling of leaves barely audible behind the soft hum of the engine. Ella stared out the window, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. Nicholas hadn't said much since they left the cabin—he was giving her space. But his silence wasn't distant. It was calming. Steady.
She glanced at him briefly. His hand was on the steering wheel, his other resting casually on the armrest, a picture of composure. But his eyes... she could see the glances he kept stealing toward her. Protective. Watchful.
The facility came into view slowly—modern architecture set against a backdrop of landscaped gardens, fountains, and walking paths. It didn't look like a hospital. It looked like a retreat.
Ella's breath caught in her throat.
"This is it?" she asked softly.
Nicholas gave a single nod. "Yes. Your mom was transferred last night. I had them set up a private suite for her, with 24-hour care and constant monitoring. The staff here—only the best."
Ella couldn't speak. She could only stare.
A security guard opened the gate as soon as they approached, waving Nicholas through with practiced ease. The car stopped beneath a covered entrance, and before Ella could even unbuckle her seatbelt, Nicholas was already stepping out and opening the door for her.
He offered her his hand.
She took it.
Her knees felt a little weak as she stepped out and took in the full grandeur of the place. It wasn't cold or sterile like the city hospitals. It was warm. Peaceful. As if healing wasn't just for the body here—but for the soul.
Nicholas gently placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked through the automatic glass doors.
The woman at the front desk smiled warmly when she saw them. "Good afternoon, Mr.and Mrs Carter . Everything is ready. Dr. Reynolds is expecting you."
Ella blinked. "They know me?"
Nicholas gave her a small smile. "Of course they do. You're her daughter."
They were led through a quiet hallway, each step making Ella's heart pound faster. A thousand fears churned in her chest—was her mother awake? Was she stable? Would she look different?
Finally, they stopped in front of a double door. The nurse knocked once, then opened it.
Inside was a spacious, softly lit suite. Pale blue walls. A large window overlooking a garden. A flat screen on the wall quietly playing a classical piano piece. There were books, fresh flowers on the table, and—
There she was.
Her mother.
Lying peacefully in bed, hooked up to fewer machines than Ella remembered. Her face looked calm. Less strained. The nurses had even braided her hair neatly.
Ella's hand flew to her mouth.
"She's okay?" she whispered.
"Yes," a gentle voice said from behind them. A man in his forties with kind eyes stepped forward. "I'm Dr. Reynolds. We've run several tests since she arrived, and while she's still in a coma, her condition is stable. Her vitals are stronger than expected. There's no organ deterioration, and we've started a new neuro-stimulation protocol to increase her chances of regaining consciousness."
Tears welled in Ella's eyes. "You really think she could wake up?"
"I believe there's a possibility, yes," he said kindly. "We'll be taking very good care of her."
Nicholas placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn't even realize how hard she was shaking until she leaned into him and felt her body sag in relief.
"Can I—" Her voice cracked. "Can I sit with her?"
"Of course," Dr. Reynolds said. "Take all the time you need."
Nicholas followed her to the bedside but didn't intrude. He stood a few steps back, letting her have this moment. Ella sat on the chair beside her mother's bed, gently reaching for her hand. It was warm.
She bit her lip, overwhelmed.
"Hey, Mom," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I should've been here. I'm here now."
Tears slid silently down her cheeks as she ran her fingers over her mother's wrist.
Nicholas watched from a distance, the weight of her grief sitting heavily on his chest. He hadn't known Ella long, but something about her always made him feel like he needed to hold the world steady for her.
She eventually turned to look at him. "Thank you," she whispered. "For this."
He walked closer and crouched beside her chair.
"You don't owe me a thank-you," he said. "But I'll take one if it comes with a smile."
A watery laugh escaped her lips.
"She looks better than I remember," Ella said. "And the room—it doesn't even feel like a hospital."
"That's the point," Nicholas murmured. "She deserves comfort. So do you."
They sat there for a while, the quiet between them not heavy, just filled with presence. With care.
"She always hated the smell of antiseptic," Ella said with a tiny smile. "Said it made her feel like she was in a cage."
"She's not in one anymore," Nicholas replied. "She's safe now. Just like you."
Ella looked down at her mother's hand, then back at him. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe you don't. Maybe I don't. But here we are."
She shook her head gently. "I didn't think anyone would ever fight for me. Not like this."
Nicholas reached for her hand this time, intertwining their fingers. "Get used to it."