The only family I have Left.

Chapter 30

Gracie's body trembled, her chest still rising and falling with the strain of the panic attack. Her eyes were fluttering, fighting against the exhaustion that threatened to pull her back under. But through the haze of fear and confusion, something warm began to settle in her chest. It was a soft pull, a presence that felt familiar and comforting, like a beacon in the dark.

The faint squeeze of her hand, the voice of her mother, all of it anchored her in a way she hadn't felt in so long. Her heartbeat began to slow, each thump grounding her further, pulling her closer to the surface.

Through the fog in her mind, Gracie could sense Lily. Her mother. She could feel her presence, her warmth, and her touch—so tender, so real. It was a lifeline. The panic was still there, still clawing at her from the edges, but it was lessening, like a storm slowly passing.

And then, Gracie heard her mother's voice again, soft and soothing. "It's okay, darling. I'm right here."

Her lips parted, and her throat felt dry, but she tried to speak—tried to reach out for her. The effort felt like lifting mountains, but the will was there, the desire to be close to Lily stronger than anything else.

"M-Mama..." Gracie whispered, her voice barely audible, shaking with emotion.

Tears began to well up in her eyes, the first signs of release she'd felt since waking. She couldn't understand it, the flood of emotions crashing over her. All she knew was that she wanted to reach for Lily, to feel her, to confirm that this—her mother's voice, her touch, her presence—was real.

Gracie's trembling fingers, weak and uncoordinated, moved slowly, inching toward Lily. The motion was slight, almost imperceptible, but it carried so much meaning. It was a fragile plea, a desperate need for connection after so much time adrift in the dark.

Lily noticed immediately, her eyes widening as she saw the subtle shift in Gracie's hand. She leaned closer, her breath catching in her throat as she gently held Gracie's fingers, guiding her hand until their palms touched.

"Oh, Gracie," Lily whispered, her voice choked with emotion, her tears falling freely now. "I'm right here. You don't have to reach anymore."

But Gracie's tears came anyway, sliding down her cheeks, a mixture of relief, joy, and the pain of everything she had been through. She cried for the time lost, for the fear she had felt, but mostly... she cried because she was no longer alone. She wasn't lost in the void anymore.

With a soft, barely-there motion, Gracie lifted her hand higher, trembling, but determined. She reached for Lily, her fingers brushing against her mother's arm. The contact was tentative, fragile, but it was enough. It was more than enough.

Lily's heart broke at the sight of her daughter's fragile movements. She took Gracie's hand in both of hers, holding it as if it was the most precious thing in the world, and gently brought it to her cheek.

"I'm here, sweetheart," Lily whispered through her own tears, pressing a kiss to Gracie's trembling fingers. "I'll never leave you again."

Gracie's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the emotional weight of everything overwhelming her, but she still clung to Lily's touch. She could feel the warmth of her mother, the safety, and the love that had always been there, waiting for her to return. And in that moment, Gracie knew—no matter what else happened, she was loved. She was safe.

Lily carefully moved closer, brushing Gracie's hair back from her forehead, her hands gentle, but firm in their presence. "I'm so proud of you, Gracie. You're so strong," she murmured, her voice full of admiration and tenderness.

Gracie's chest hitched as she tried to breathe through the raw emotions flooding her, her tears falling freely now, quiet and bittersweet. She squeezed Lily's hand weakly, reaching for more, her heart yearning to feel her mother's embrace.

Lily could feel the small, faint movements in Gracie's fingers. It wasn't much, but it was enough to send a rush of love through her. She held her daughter's hand tighter, her heart swelling with the realization that, despite everything, Gracie was fighting—fighting to come back, to heal, to find her way back to her.

And in that moment, everything that had been lost, every second of fear and confusion, seemed worth it. Because Gracie was awake. Gracie was here. And together, they would find their way through this.

With one final, tearful kiss to her daughter's forehead, Lily whispered, "I love you, Gracie. I'll never leave you. We're in this together."

Gracie didn't have the strength to respond. But her fingers tightened around Lily's hand, a silent promise—I'm here. I'm with you.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Gracie's tears weren't just born of fear or loss—they were tears of happiness. The tears of a daughter finally finding her way home.