The driveway went silent except for the water dripping from her clothes.

The man stared at his daughter like the world had stopped moving.

For two years, he had carried her upstairs.

For two years, he had watched doctors shake their heads.

For two years, he had prayed to see her stand again.

And now she was standing in front of him, shaking with fear.

“Send you away where?” he whispered.

The woman stepped back.

“She’s confused.”

The girl shook her head, crying harder.

“She said if I walked again, you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

The man slowly turned.

The woman’s face went pale.

“She said you’d send me to a home,” the girl whispered. “So I stayed in the chair.”

His breath broke.

“How long?”

The girl looked down at her wet shoes.

“Since Christmas.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears.

He looked at the woman, then back at his daughter.

“She made you hide this from me?”

The girl nodded.

Then she took one small step toward him.

Her knees trembled.

He dropped to the driveway and opened his arms.

She fell into him, sobbing into his suit.

“I would never send you away,” he whispered. “Never.”

Behind them, the woman tried to walk back toward the house.

The man lifted his eyes.

Cold.

Broken.

Certain.

“You’re the one leaving.”