The only family I have Left.

Chapter 29

The corridor outside the hospital wing was quiet, the air thick with the soft, rhythmic hum of magic in the walls. Lily's footsteps echoed as she walked toward Gracie's bedside. It had been months since Gracie had woken up, months since her daughter had opened her eyes, said a word, or squeezed her hand. Lily had been waiting, praying, holding onto the hope that her daughter would return to her. But today... today felt different.

Lily pushed open the door to the hospital wing, the familiar scent of potions and healing salves greeting her. She stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the still form of Gracie on the bed. Her daughter was lying there, pale and fragile, the faint rise and fall of her chest the only sign that she was still alive.

Lily's heart clenched at the sight. It had been so long, so many empty days spent sitting at Gracie's side, talking to her, willing her to wake up. But today, today was different. Lily could feel it.

As she approached the bed, her hand trembled slightly as she reached out to touch Gracie's fingers. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, just as she was about to pull her hand away, she felt it—a small, weak squeeze.

"Gracie?" Lily whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would break the delicate moment.

She bent closer, her breath catching in her throat. "Gracie, darling, can you hear me?"

Gracie's hand trembled in hers, and Lily felt the faintest stir in her chest. She was awake. She was here.

But then, Gracie's breathing began to change. It was rapid, shallow, uneven. Lily's heart skipped a beat as she saw the panic flash across her daughter's face—her eyes were still closed, but the way her body tensed, the way her chest hitched with every breath, made it clear that something was wrong.

Lily's mind raced. A panic attack, she thought. Gracie had experienced them before—when things became too overwhelming, when the world had been too much for her. And now, after everything, after months in a coma, it seemed like the shock of being awake, of returning to the world, was too much for her.

Lily's grip tightened around Gracie's hand as she leaned closer. "Gracie," she whispered, her voice firm but gentle. "Breathe, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."

But Gracie's breaths only grew more erratic. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession, her fingers grasping at the sheets as if she were trying to hold onto something, anything, to ground herself. Her body trembled violently, and Lily could feel the panic emanating from her.

"Breathe with me, Gracie," Lily said, her voice soothing yet filled with urgency. "Just focus on my voice. In... and out. In... and out."

Gracie's eyes fluttered beneath their lids, her face twisted in distress as she gasped for air, unable to catch her breath. She was fading in and out of consciousness, caught in the throes of the panic attack, and Lily could feel the helplessness clawing at her chest.

"Shhh, sweetheart. It's okay," Lily murmured again, brushing her daughter's damp forehead with the back of her hand. She tried to remember the breathing techniques they'd practiced, the ones that had helped Gracie before.

Slowly, she drew a deep breath, demonstrating for Gracie, trying to help her find her center. "In through the nose... out through the mouth," she coaxed. "You can do this, Gracie. You're safe. I'm right here."

But Gracie's panic didn't subside. Instead, her body jerked as if she couldn't control it, her hand clutching Lily's with the last bit of strength she had left. The sounds of her labored breathing filled the air, harsh and uneven.

"Please, Gracie, listen to me," Lily pleaded, tears filling her eyes as she pressed her forehead gently against her daughter's. "Please, baby, breathe. Just breathe with me."

And then, through the chaos, through the wild trembling and the shallow gasps, Gracie's lips parted—barely, just a whisper.

"M...Mama..." she breathed, her voice barely a sound, fragile and broken.

Lily's heart shattered at the sound. It was so faint, so fragile, but it was unmistakable. Her daughter had spoken. She was awake.

"No, no, no..." Lily whispered, her tears falling freely now as she bent closer to Gracie's face. "Gracie, darling, you're awake... you're really awake."

Gracie's eyes fluttered, though they didn't quite open, and Lily could see the struggle on her daughter's face, the effort it took for her to even move. Gracie's lips parted again, but no words came, only the softest of breaths. Her tiny, frail hand trembled weakly in Lily's grip.

"Shh, it's okay. You don't need to speak right now," Lily murmured, her voice soothing but full of raw emotion. She pressed her forehead gently against Gracie's, closing her eyes for a moment as she fought to steady herself. "You're safe. I'm right here, sweetheart."

Gracie's breathing was shallow, unsteady, and Lily could see the strain in every slight movement, in every attempt to open her eyes. It was like watching a flower trying to bloom under the harshest conditions, but Lily refused to let her give up.

"Gracie... please," Lily whispered, brushing her daughter's cheek with the back of her hand. "Just hold on. Please... don't leave me again."

She closed her eyes, willing her daughter to find the strength to come back to her. And then, just as Lily was about to pull away, she felt it—the faintest of squeezes. A weak, but deliberate squeeze of her hand.

A sob escaped Lily's chest as she leaned in, her voice breaking. "I love you, Gracie. I love you so much."

Gracie's eyes fluttered open, just a sliver. It was as though the weight of the world had lifted just enough for her to see the familiar face of her mother, her protector, standing before her. And despite the pain that lingered in her fragile body, despite the fear that still gripped her heart, Gracie could feel the warmth of her mother's love flooding her.

"Mama..." she whispered again, her voice weak but filled with recognition. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Lily smiled through her tears, her hand still holding Gracie's with all the tenderness she could muster. "I'm here, darling. I'm right here."

And for the first time in months, Gracie felt the weight of the darkness lift, just enough for the light of her mother's love to find its way through.