The hospital room was quiet but far from still. Kieran lay in the narrow bed, the constant beeping of machines his only companion as he stared at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell in careful rhythm, each breath another reminder of the fragility tethering him to this moment. He tried to focus on the tablet resting in his lap, the familiar story paused on a chapter header. The title glowed faintly on the screen: A Star Beyond the Veil. It had always been his favorite, a world he could escape to when reality felt too heavy, but today, even that didn't hold his attention. Instead, his thoughts wandered, dipping into the ache that curled deep inside of him, both body and mind unwilling to relent.
The pain wasn't searing, but it was constant, like an unwanted rhythm beneath the calm. He swallowed, the effort pulling slightly at his ribs. He wouldn't mention it when they came in. The last thing he wanted was to worry them more than they already were.
The knock at the door broke the tension, and his head turned with effort. His mom slipped in, her auburn hair slightly frizzy, her shoulders hunched under the weight of a day she likely hadn't even planned to survive the way she did. She carried a crinkled takeout bag, her eyes widening as they locked on him.
"Cheese ravioli," she announced, an easy grin breaking through the exhaustion etched into her face.
Kieran managed to quirk his lips upward, though it felt like sandpaper against his usual expressions. "Out here breaking hospital rules again, huh? Little rebellious for a mom."
"Anything for you," she replied, soft but determined. She crossed the room, setting the bag carefully on his bedside table before leaning down to brush his hair back from his forehead. The gesture was small, yet so deeply familiar it almost pushed Kieran to close his eyes. He didn't, though. He wanted this moment.
Her hand lingered a second longer before she straightened. "You're looking a bit pale," she murmured.
"That's just my natural glow," Kieran joked, though his voice didn't have its usual sharpness.
Before she could reply, the quiet of the space burst apart. The door flung open wider, and Eliza's voice carried through, punctuated by laughter. "And for my next trick, I present the circus," she called lightly, stepping inside with Aya and Cass clinging to her hands.
Aya, as usual, was the first to escape, darting across the room with her coloring book clutched to her chest. "Kieran, Kieran! Look what I made you!" she cried, clambering onto the chair at his bedside.
Cass wandered in more slowly, his juice box clenched tightly in one hand. He glanced around the room like he might be planning his next elaborate prank. Eliza stood in the doorway for a heartbeat longer, letting the chaos unfold around her.
"And here they come," Kieran said, his tone soft but teasing as he turned his attention to his siblings. "Aya the artist and Cass the snack thief."
"I'm NOT a snack thief!" Cass objected, though his grin suggested he'd happily accept the title.
While Aya flipped through her coloring book, proudly displaying her line after line of purple stars, Eliza leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. "You're welcome, by the way," she muttered with mock exasperation. "They were so not supposed to bring the circus act into a hospital."
"It's my favorite act," Kieran replied, giving her a faint smile.
"That's right!" Aya declared. "We're the BEST!" She paused, frowning for only a moment before shoving the coloring book straight into Kieran's hands. "Here. It's your surprise. I made every single star your favorite color."
"Purple?" Kieran guessed, knowing full well it was true.
"Purple!" Aya confirmed, her grin wide enough to make her cheeks look like balloons. "All forty-seven!"
"Fifty-three," Cass corrected with the air of an expert. "She can't count."
"HEY!" Aya snapped, turning to glare at her twin.
"Kids, knock it off," their mom said, stepping in between them. Her voice was calm but firm, and in an instant, both kids quieted. "You've got fifteen minutes before you head home, so don't spend it picking at each other."
"Listen to Mom," Eliza added, nudging Cass lightly as she moved closer to the group. "Kieran needs quiet, not whatever this is."
"Actually," Kieran said, his voice cutting through softly, "I really need this."
The words hung in the air just long enough to settle, their impact reaching each sibling differently. Aya huffed a little but smiled wide again, climbing up beside him to point out the best parts of her drawings. Cass slid into the corner near the window, sipping loudly on his juice box but periodically glancing out the side of his eye toward his brother.
And then the door opened a final time to reveal Nathan, their dad, his big frame making the doorway feel small for half a second. He gave the room one quick sweep, his keen eyes taking in the happy chaos before him, before he smirked. "Am I interrupting?"
"Never," Kieran replied, the faintest glow resting on his face as he met his dad's gaze.
Nathan crossed the room in measured steps, his presence steady and calm. He ruffled Kieran's hair as he passed by the bed before catching Aya mid-leap and hoisting her up into his arms. "Alright, team. Fifteen minutes is going to turn into none if you don't start saying your goodbyes."
"Noooo!" Aya whined, throwing her arms around her dad's neck like she could stay if she just held tight enough.
"You'll see him tomorrow," Nathan said evenly. His eyes twinkled slightly as he nodded toward Kieran. "Right, champ?"
"Tomorrow," Kieran promised, his voice cracking just enough to soften Aya's pout.
Nathan ushered the younger two out the door, with Eliza trailing behind them after a quick pat to Kieran's arm. The room grew still again, the air shifting lighter but quieter.
Their mom lingered. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hand finding his. For a moment, the only sound was the faint beeping of the machines.
"You've always been my miracle, you know," she said softly. "And no matter how much this stupid hospital tries to hold you down, I know you'll find ways to keep shining." Her voice wavered on the last word, but before Kieran could respond, she leaned in quickly to kiss his forehead.
"Rest, okay?" she said, standing and smiling through glassy eyes. "We'll be back tomorrow."
Kieran nodded and watched her leave, the door clicking softly behind her. Alone again, he shifted on the bed, staring at the tablet still balanced in his lap. But his focus didn't return to the story. Instead, his thoughts wandered again—to Amara.
She hadn't visited that morning, though she'd been by almost every day since he'd been admitted. He could almost see her sitting in the chair by the window, her soft laughter cutting through the hospital haze as she teased him about the way he'd bickered endlessly with his siblings growing up. She always brought some silly card game or puzzle to keep him distracted. How someone could be so annoyingly persistent and perfect at the same time was beyond him.
Maybe she'd show up tomorrow. He hoped she would.
For now, though, Kieran held onto the moments they'd all given him today. Every laugh, every tease, every look of love. It was enough. For now, it was enough. Tomorrow would come, and with it, more of the light they left behind. And Kieran held on to that hope like it was his own little star.