Miguel's hands were firm on the steering wheel, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. He said nothing, focused on the road, and I didn't bother breaking the silence either. Sometimes, words aren't necessary. Sometimes, they even get in the way.
The hospital appeared on the horizon, and my stomach churned. I swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. The morning was beautiful, with a clear blue sky and a few scattered clouds. It seemed ironic. The lightness of the day contrasted with the weight we carried in our chests.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked suddenly, his eyes still fixed ahead.
"I've never been more sure of anything," I replied, turning my face to him. "I love your daughter, Miguel. If I can do anything to help her, even if it's minimal… I will do it."
He ligh
