"I told her I'd try to give her a ride."
"You are trying."
The words hung between them.
Doc stared at the frame.
Hank continued.
"You've spent eight years punishing yourself for a promise you couldn't keep. Don't turn another little girl's happiness into a test you have to pass."
Doc looked toward him.
The older man spoke gently.
"Ellie isn't Sophie."
Doc closed his eyes.
"I know."
"Then let Ellie be Ellie."
For a long time, neither spoke.
Eventually, Doc nodded.
"You're right."
Hank smiled faintly.
"Don't sound so surprised."
Doc laughed.
The tension in his shoulders eased.
But after Hank left, the biker remained beside the unfinished vehicle.
He wasn't ready to go home.
Not yet.
The first week of December brought a setback nobody had anticipated.
Ellie developed a respiratory infection.
At first, it seemed mild.
She was more tired than usual, complained of discomfort, and lost interest in several activities she normally enjoyed. Rachel contacted her medical team, and they recommended closer assessment because Ellie's underlying condition made respiratory illness more concerning.
By the following evening, the family was at the hospital.
Rachel sat beside Ellie's bed, holding Mr. Bumblebee while nurses checked her comfort and breathing. Mark stood near the window, watching the lights of Asheville beyond the glass.
The little girl looked pale.
Her voice was quieter than usual.
"Mama?"
Rachel leaned forward.
"Yes, baby."
"Can I go home?"
Rachel brushed the hair away from her forehead.
"As soon as the doctors say you're ready."
Ellie looked disappointed.
"I don't like this place."
"I know."
"It smells funny."
Rachel smiled faintly.
"It does."
Ellie looked toward her teddy bear.
"Mr. Bumblebee doesn't like it either."
Rachel placed him beside her.
"Then we'll keep him close."
The hospital stay lasted several days.
Ellie's medical team treated the illness and monitored her carefully. Gradually, her condition improved, but the episode reminded everyone how quickly her needs could change.
Rachel barely slept.
Mark divided his time between the hospital and work, returning each evening with clean clothes, books, and whatever small comforts Ellie requested.
On the third day, Doc called.
Rachel answered from the hospital hallway.
"How is she?"
The worry in his voice was immediate.
Rachel leaned against the wall.
"She's stable, but she's tired."
Doc was silent for a moment.
"Is there anything you need?"