As Thomas Reed approached my bedside, the room seemed to shift, the sterile air filling with a warmth I hadn’t felt in ages. I was overwhelmed by the sheer improbability of it all. My father, alive, standing before me, a pillar of strength in my direst moment.
He pulled up a chair and sat beside me, his presence a protective barrier against the chaos that had infiltrated my life. “I know this is a shock,” he began, his voice softer now. “But I promise, I’m here to make things right. Your mother… she kept you hidden from me. It’s a long story, one we have all the time in the world to discuss, but for now, just know that you’re not alone.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. The stress of the past few months, the betrayal, the abandonment, all seemed to cave in on me. But here was this man, my father, promising me refuge and an escape from the turmoil. His arrival felt like a lifeline thrown to someone adrift at sea.
