“Tyler?” my voice echoed down the quiet hallway.
He snapped his head up. When his eyes met mine, his face paled. Shock, guilt, and raw emotion swept across his features in an instant. He stood up slowly, as if his legs could barely support his weight.
“Amanda?” he breathed out, taking a hesitant step backward. “What… what are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“I went to the station, Tyler,” I said, walking toward him with tears blurring my vision. “I brought you a cake. I brought balloons. I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. And Captain Reyes told me you weren’t even on the schedule.”
Tyler closed his eyes, bowing his head as a heavy tear rolled down his cheek. “Amanda… I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this. I was going to tell you tonight. I swear I was.”
“Tell me what?” I demanded, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. “Who is in that room, Tyler? What have you been hiding from me?”
Instead of answering with words, Tyler gently took my hand. His palm was ice-cold. He turned and led me slowly toward the glass window of Room 304.
I stepped up to the glass and looked inside.
Lying in the small hospital bed was a little girl, no older than six years old. She was fast asleep, her tiny head covered by a knitted yellow hat. Beside her bed sat an older woman, gently stroking the child’s arm. On the nightstand sat a framed photograph of a young firefighter in full turnouts—a man who looked strikingly similar to Tyler, but with subtle differences in his eyes and smile.
I recognized the man in the photograph immediately. It was David, Tyler’s former rookie partner who had tragically lost his life in a structure fire four years ago.
“Tyler…” I gasped, turning to look at my husband. “Is that… is that David’s daughter?”…
