Kevin's boots squeaked against the polished floor as he rounded the corner to the ICU. He half-expected someone to stop him to tell him he needed to calm down, to walk, not run but no one did. Maybe they all knew. Maybe they'd seen this before: a brother chasing hope down a hospital hallway.
When he stepped into Emily's room, the first thing he heard was her voice soft, weak, but there. Alive.
"Kev?"
It was barely more than a whisper, but it hit him like thunder. He crossed the room in three long strides and sank into the chair by her bed, his big hand covering hers so gently he was afraid to breathe too hard.
"Hey, Em," he said, his voice cracking. "Hey, superstar. You're awake."
Emily blinked slowly. Even with the tubes and wires, her eyes were the same a shade lighter than his, wide and impossibly brave. She tried to smile but winced instead.
"It hurts," she murmured.
"I know, I know," Kevin said, brushing a stray strand of hair off her forehead. Her skin felt like paper under his fingertips. "You scared me, you know that? Gave me a heart attack."
A tiny huff of air escaped her the closest thing she could manage to a laugh. "I'm tough. Like you."
Kevin forced a grin. "Tougher than me, kid. You always were."
She shifted slightly, wincing again. Her eyes flicked to the IV bag, the beeping machines. Her voice was hoarse, but her mind was sharp as ever. "Did they say if it's working?"
Kevin hesitated, then squeezed her hand. He couldn't lie not to her. "They said you're fighting. That's what matters right now."
Emily stared at the ceiling for a long moment. He knew what she was thinking. She always knew more than he wanted her to. "Are you okay?" she asked suddenly, her small brow furrowing the way their mother's used to when she worried.
That simple question nearly broke him. Even now with poison dripping into her veins, with her hair starting to thin, her bones aching she was worried about him.
"Yeah, Em. I'm okay. Better now that you're awake." He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the back of her hand. "I promise, I'm going to fix this. I'm going to find a way."
She didn't say how. She didn't ask when. She just believed him because that's what she'd always done.
He stayed by her side until she drifted off again, her small hand limp in his. Only then did he stand, stretching his cramped back. He slipped out of the room quietly and found Matt leaning against the nurses' station down the hall.
She straightened when she saw him coming, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "How is she?"
Kevin ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted but lighter somehow like a man who'd been underwater and finally found a breath. "She's awake. Talking. It's… it's something."
Matt smiled. "It's more than something. She's fighting. That's good."
He nodded. An awkward silence settled between them. Kevin didn't really know how to thank her not for the letter, or the coffee, or the way she'd just sat there and seen him when nobody else did.
"Listen," he said, clearing his throat. "About that letter. Are you sure you won't get in trouble for helping me?"
Matt shrugged, folding her arms across her chest. "Let them try. I didn't break any rules just found the ones nobody talks about."
He almost smiled at that. "Why do you do it?"
She tilted her head, studying him. "Do what?"
"Care this much. About people like me."
Matt's eyes softened. She glanced past him at the ICU doors, her voice quieter than before. "Because sometimes the right thing to do doesn't fit on a checklist. And because people like Emily deserve more than the system gives them."
Kevin opened his mouth to say something else to thank her, maybe, or apologize for needing so much from a stranger but his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and his shoulders stiffened.
Matt noticed immediately. "What is it?"
Kevin's thumb hovered over the screen. "It's my landlord. I'm behind on rent again. He's threatening to throw us out. He knows I'm here. He doesn't care."
Matt's expression hardened. She glanced around, then lowered her voice. "How much do you owe?"
Kevin looked away, embarrassed. "Too much. Doesn't matter. I'll figure it out."
Matt hesitated, then reached into her pocket, pulling out a folded slip of paper. She pressed it into his hand before he could protest. "This is my friend's number. She works with a local charity. Sometimes they cover rent for families with medical emergencies. I can't promise, but it's worth a call."
Kevin shook his head, almost protesting but he didn't have the strength to argue. He just looked at the paper, then at her.
"You don't even know me," he said quietly.
Matt met his eyes, steady and unflinching. "I know enough."
For a second, Kevin felt something he hadn't felt in a long time safe. Not completely, not forever. But just enough to stand a little straighter.
He tucked the paper into his pocket. "Okay. I'll call."
Matt nodded. "Good. Now go home. Eat something. Shower. Emily needs you strong."
Kevin chuckled tiredly. "Bossy."
Matt smirked. "Nurse."
He laughed at that a real laugh, short but genuine and for a heartbeat, the sterile hospital hallway didn't feel so heavy. He turned to leave but paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Hey, Matt."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
She didn't say You're welcome. She just lifted her pen in a mock salute, her tired smile enough to keep him moving forward.
Outside, the night was cold and smelled faintly of rain. Kevin pulled his jacket tighter around himself and looked up at the hospital windows, where somewhere above him his sister was sleeping still fighting.
He slipped the charity number into his wallet beside Emily's photo, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath.
He didn't know how. He didn't know when. But he wasn't giving up. Not now. Not ever.
Hope was fragile but tonight, it was enough.