Chapter 17 - The Spark
Maya’s recovery was nothing short of a miracle.
Breaking her silence that night seemed to shatter the invisible wall holding her back.
She started with small words.
“Please.” “Thank you.” “Good morning.”
Harrison canceled his international business trips for three straight months.
He dedicated every single day to sitting with her, playing board games, and listening to her read out loud.
One afternoon, we were sitting on the patio overlooking the ocean.
Maya was painting a picture on a small easel.
She looked up at me, a smear of blue paint on her nose.
“Clara, do you like my ocean?” she asked perfectly clearly.
I smiled, feeling a familiar lump in my throat.
“I love it, sweetie,” I told her.
“It’s beautiful.”
Harrison walked out onto the patio carrying a tray of lemonade.
He handed me a glass, and our fingers briefly brushed against each other.
A sudden, unexpected jolt of electricity shot up my arm.
I looked up, and I caught Harrison staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher.
May you like
It was warm, deep, and full of immense gratitude.
Maybe even something more.
