Ava POV
Monday morning at the clinic was chaos.
By ten, I'd been sneezed on twice.
Convinced a five-year-old the thermometer wasn't trying to kill him.
And negotiated two stickers out of a seven-year-old who apparently had a future in business.
Normal.
I loved normal.
I finished documenting my last patient and stepped into the hallway when my phone buzzed.
Mom: Gene is home.
I stopped.
Another message followed.
Mom: Sarah has his medications organized and his follow-ups scheduled.
He's already complaining about his diet and cardiac rehab.
I smiled.
Of course he was.
Me: Sounds like Gene.
Three dots appeared.
Mom: He asked if you'd been told he was home.
That hit differently.
I stared at the message before typing.
Me: Tell him I know. And tell him I'm glad he's home.
Th
