Nico slept through the night for the first time after we left New York.When he woke, sunlight was already filling the room. He looked around, then asked, “Are we late for anything?”“No,” I said. “Not anymore.”Vivian gave us two quiet days before putting me on the schedule. On the third morning, she handed me a white coat, a keycard, and a clipboard full of names.“You’re working,” she said. “I need you useful.”It was exactly what I needed.The clinic stayed busy all day. A delivery driver came in with a split palm. A little girl needed stitches in her chin. An older woman refused to let anyone but me change her dressing once she heard I had done trauma recovery work. By afternoon, I had stopped thinking about New York.Nico spent the day in the back office with a workbook, a box of pencils, and the old dog from downstairs asleep beside him. When I finished my last patient, I found him on the rug with a comic open in his lap. He looked up, smiled, and went back to reading.That smil
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