Margaret sighed.
“She's with her aunt.”
“Is she okay?”
There was another pause.
“She keeps asking whether Daddy is sick.”
I stared at the carpet.
Margaret continued.
“She's using her tablet. She wants to know when she can see him.”
My throat tightened.
I thought about the way Nora had pressed the word HOSPITAL on the screen.
The way she'd refused to leave my vest.
And the sign she'd made before leaving.
Thank you.
I asked whether there was anything the family needed.
Margaret answered immediately.
“No, honey. You've already done more than enough.”
I looked toward the window.
Then said something that surprised even me.
“Would you mind telling Nora I asked about her?”
Margaret's voice softened.
“Of course.”
I swallowed.
“And if she wants to know, please tell her I still have the water bottle I came in to buy.”
Margaret laughed through tears.
The words sounded ridiculous.
But I didn't know how else to make the little girl smile.
She promised to pass along the message.
Then thanked me again.
When the call ended, I sat on the bed for a long time.
The man was alive.
That was good.
But I knew alive wasn't the same as recovered.
He had been without a normal heartbeat long enough to require CPR and defibrillation.
The doctors were still evaluating him.
His family was still waiting.
There were questions no one could answer yet.
I looked toward my phone.
Then opened my contact list.
Claire's name was still near the top.
I stared at it.
For months, I'd told myself I needed to wait until I knew the right words.
An apology worth giving.
An explanation she'd understand.
A way to make everything easier.
Now I could hear Travis.
She's not going to wait forever.
I selected her name.
My thumb hovered above the call button.
Then I lost my nerve.
I put the phone down.
Stared at it.
Picked it up again.
Finally, I pressed call.
It rang four times.
Then my daughter answered.
“Dad?”
Her voice nearly broke me.
I hadn't heard it in months.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
There was a pause.
“Are you okay?”
I laughed once.
A tired little sound.
“That's what everybody keeps asking me today.”
She became serious.
“What happened?”
I took a breath.
Then told her.
Not every detail.
Just enough.
A little girl in Walmart.
Her father collapsing.
CPR.
The hospital.
The fear.
Claire listened quietly.
When I finished, she asked whether the man survived.
“He's alive.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“Yeah.”
We went quiet.
Then she said, “You must've been scared.”
I stared at my hands.
“Terrified.”
She didn't answer immediately.