Chapter 4 - The Sound of Home
The sun was just beginning to break over the Atlanta skyline, casting a warm, orange glow through the hospital windows when Ethan’s eyes opened again.
He looked around the room, his small face functional now, the confusion from the concussion fading. He looked at his father, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, his suit jacket gone, his sleeves rolled up.
"Daddy?" Ethan whispered.
"I'm here, buddy," Richard said, reaching out and gently taking his son’s uninjured hand. "I’m right here."
"Where’s Victoria?"
"She’s gone, Ethan. She’s never coming back to our house again."
The boy’s shoulders visibly relaxed, a deep, heavy sigh escaping his small lips. "Did you listen to the spaceship?"
"I did," Richard said, a tear finally escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. "You were very brave, Ethan. And I am so, so sorry. I didn't listen to you. I didn't protect you."
"It's okay," Ethan murmured, his eyes drifting to the doorway. "Is Clara coming back?"
Richard stood up. He walked to the door, pulled it open, and stepped into the hallway.
Clara was sitting there. She hadn't gone home. Despite the suspension, despite the cold words Richard had thrown at her, she had spent the entire night sitting on the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room, waiting for a status report on the boy she loved.
When she saw Richard, she stood up, her face tense, bracing for the final dismissal.
Richard stopped in front of her. For a long moment, the billionaire couldn't find his voice. The man who could command thousands of employees was completely brought down by the sight of her swollen, tired eyes.
He bowed his head. "I was wrong, Clara. I am... I am so deeply sorry."
Clara blinked, looking past him into the room, where Ethan was sitting up, waving his good arm.
"He’s okay?" she whispered.
"He's going to be fine," Richard said, stepping aside. "And he needs his friend."
Clara didn't hesitate. She ran past him into the room, dropping to her knees beside the bed, her arms wrapping gently around Ethan’s shoulders, careful of the cast.
"Ethan," she sobbed. "Oh, thank goodness, sweetheart."
"Look, Clara," Ethan giggled, pointing to the bedside table. "The spaceship saved the sound. Just like you said."
Richard walked back into the room, standing at the foot of the bed. For the first time since his wife had died three years ago, the hollow, cold emptiness in his chest felt like it was beginning to fill. He looked at the woman who had protected his son's heart when he was too busy protecting his fortune.
"Clara," Richard said gently. "Your contract is being rewritten tomorrow. You aren't our employee anymore."
Clara looked up, her face falling. "Mr. Avery?"
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"You're family," Richard said, a genuine, warm smile finally breaking across his face. "And tomorrow, we start over."
Ethan reached out with his red recorder, pressing the yellow button one last time, capturing the soft, happy sound of the three of them laughing as the morning sun filled the room.
