Chapter 7 - The Return to Room 214
An hour later, the door to Room 214 at St. Jude’s swung open with a cheerful creak.
Tomás was propped up against two pillows, eating a bowl of lukewarm chicken noodle soup with a plastic spoon, when Marcos strode into the room.
Marcos wasn't wearing his somber court expression. A massive, unstoppable grin split his face from ear to ear, his dark hair ruffled from running through the hospital parking garage in the rain. In his hand, he held an official court document stamped with a heavy crimson seal.
"Marcos?" Tomás asked, pausing with the spoon halfway to his mouth. "Why are you back so early? Did... did the judge say—"
Marcos walked straight to the side of the bed, dropped his backpack onto the floor, and held up the heavy piece of paper like a trophy.
"Judge Harrison signed it," Marcos said, his voice vibrating with pure, unadulterated joy. "State custody is dismissed. You're officially stuck with me, little man. For the next six months at least, nobody is sending you anywhere."
Tomás stared at the red stamp on the paper. For a second, his young face looked almost bewildered, as if he couldn't quite comprehend that the nightmare was actually over.
Then, the spoon slipped from his fingers, clattering into the bowl and splashing broth across the tray.
Tomás burst into tears—not the quiet, terrified sobs of the past three weeks, but the loud, messy, uncontrollable crying of a nine-year-old boy who had just been given his life back. He threw his thin arms around Marcos’s neck, burying his face deep into the shoulder of the navy shirt.
Marcos wrapped his arms around his brother, burying his face in Tomás’s soft hair, letting his own tears fall silently against the hospital gown.
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"I told you," Marcos whispered, his voice cracking as he held his brother tighter than ever before. "We're a package deal. Nobody's ever separating us."
In the doorway of the room, Father O’Malley leaned against the frame, watching the two brothers with a quiet smile, while outside, the Chicago rain finally began to clear, letting a sharp, golden shaft of autumn sunlight cut through the gray clouds and flood the hospital room with warmth.
