By the time Leo reached the hospital, the morning rush had settled into its usual rhythm.
Nurses moved through the halls carrying clipboards and paper cups of coffee.
Wheels squeaked against polished floors.
Somewhere down the corridor, a monitor beeped steadily enough to become part of the building itself.
Leo stepped out of the elevator with a coffee tray balanced in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
He looked different.
Not dramatically.
Just... lighter.
Like someone had loosened a knot somewhere inside him during the night.
Lila noticed immediately.
She was sitting cross-legged in the chair beside their mother's bed, half-asleep over her phone, when the door opened.
She looked up automatically.
Then narrowed her eyes.
"Oh my god."
Leo blinked once. "Good morning to you too."
"You smiled."
"I did not."
"You literally walked in here glowing."
"I'm holding coffee, Lila. That's called caffeine."
