The next afternoon, Mrs. Blake picked up Sam and me from school, her car already stocked like a mini care package. A small bouquet of colorful flowers sat on the seat beside her, and a grocery bag filled with snacks rustled as Sam climbed into the backseat with his usual enthusiasm.

"Can I give her the flowers?" he asked, holding the bouquet as though it were a rare artifact.

"Of course," Mrs. Blake said with a smile, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "I'm sure she'll love them."

Sam inspected the bouquet with a serious expression. "Good. I made sure they didn't look too girly. No frilly stuff."

I snorted. "They're flowers, Sam. They're inherently frilly."

"Not if you squint," he shot back, narrowing his eyes dramatically as if to prove his point.

The drive to the hospital was a mix of Sam's animated stories and Mrs. Blake's occasional attempts to steer him back on topic. He launched into a detailed recount of how his class had witnessed a science experiment go hilariously wrong.

"And then—get this—the volcano exploded, but instead of lava, it was pink foam! It hit Mr. Keller right in the face. He tried to act all serious, but he looked like a strawberry milkshake!" Sam burst into laughter, and even Mrs. Blake couldn't hide her grin.

"Sounds like a productive school day," I said, shaking my head.

"It was educational," Sam said, smirking. "I learned what not to do if I ever build a volcano."

As we pulled into the hospital parking lot, my thoughts shifted back to Lily. The weight in my chest from the past few days hadn't completely lifted, but seeing Sam so relaxed helped lighten the mood.

Inside, the hospital smelled the same as before—sterile and faintly medicinal—but Lily's room was a cheerful contrast. The walls were decorated with colorful balloons and get-well cards, and a small teddy bear sat on the windowsill, its red bow slightly crooked.

When we stepped into the room, Lily was sitting up in bed, her face lighting up like a firework when she saw us. "Sam! Emily!" she called out, her voice hoarse but full of excitement.

"Hey, kiddo," Mrs. Blake said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Lily said, her grin widening as Sam presented her with the flowers. "These are so pretty! Thank you!"

Sam puffed out his chest like he'd just delivered a medal of honor. "They're not as cool as soccer, but they'll do."

Lily giggled, cradling the bouquet like a treasure. "You're so weird."

"Thank you," Sam said with a mock bow. "I aim to inspire."

I sat down in the chair beside her bed, smiling at the sight of her looking more like herself. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you," I said honestly.

"I feel a lot better," she replied, setting the flowers carefully on her bedside table. "The nurse said I might even get to go home today."

Mrs. Blake nodded. "The doctor just needs to sign the discharge papers, and then we'll be good to go. But don't get too excited. You're still on light duty for a while."

"What's light duty?" Lily asked, frowning.

"Basically, no running marathons or climbing Mount Everest for the next couple of weeks," I said with a grin.

"Aw, man," Sam said, slapping his forehead dramatically. "I was just about to invite her on my next Everest expedition."

Lily giggled again, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

While we waited, Lily filled us in on her hospital adventures, which sounded less like a dramatic medical recovery and more like a sleepover with a lot of Jell-O.

"The nurses kept giving me extra Jell-O cups," she said, holding up her fingers. "I had three! And they were all different colors!"

Sam leaned forward, his eyes wide. "Three colors? Whoa. You're living the dream, kid. What's next? Unlimited pudding?"

"Maybe," Lily said with a grin.

Sam jumped up and pretended to reenact her Jell-O adventure, crouching low as if sneaking around and miming grabbing cups. "There I was," he narrated in an exaggerated whisper. "The room was dark. The nurse was distracted. And BAM! I snagged the legendary Triple Jell-O Combo!"

Lily burst into laughter, clutching her stomach but clearly delighted. Even Mrs. Blake couldn't hold back her chuckles.

"You're ridiculous," I said, shaking my head but smiling.

"And proud of it," Sam said, striking a superhero pose.

The doctor came in not long after, a friendly man with glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose, making him look like he was perpetually peering over them. He carried a clipboard in one hand and a warm smile that immediately put everyone at ease.

"Lily," he began, his tone cheerful, "you're officially on the mend. But I need you to stick to a few rules to make sure you heal properly, okay?"

Lily nodded, sitting up straighter like she was about to take notes.

"First," the doctor continued, "no running around or heavy lifting for at least a week." He glanced pointedly at Sam, who raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Hey, don't look at me! I'm not making her run a marathon," Sam said, grinning.

The doctor chuckled, shaking his head. "Second, if there's any discomfort, fever, or anything unusual, bring her back right away."

Mrs. Blake nodded, her voice firm but kind. "We'll make sure she takes it easy. Thank you, doctor."

He handed over the discharge papers with a reassuring smile before heading out. Moments later, a nurse arrived to wheel Lily out in a wheelchair.

"I don't need this," Lily protested, crossing her arms. "I can walk just fine."

"It's hospital policy," the nurse said with a playful wink. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to miss the grand exit. It's like a parade—except quieter."

Lily giggled despite herself, settling into the chair as Sam leaned over and whispered loudly, "Wave like a queen. It's your moment."

Lily raised her hand in an exaggerated royal wave, and we all burst out laughing as the nurse wheeled her down the hallway.

When we stepped outside, the crisp autumn air greeted us, carrying the faint scent of fallen leaves and distant chimneys. Lily took a deep breath, her cheeks glowing with relief.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, stretching her arms like she'd just been released from a dungeon. "I missed being outside."

"We missed you at home," Mrs. Blake said, helping her into the car with gentle care. "And to celebrate your homecoming, we thought we'd do something special."

Lily's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What is it?"

Mrs. Blake smiled as she slid into the driver's seat. "Let's just say it involves a certain favorite restaurant of yours."

Lily's face lit up. "You mean... the pancake place? With the whipped cream and chocolate chip pancakes?"

Mrs. Blake grinned. "You'll have to wait and see."

"And can we get ice cream after?" Lily asked eagerly, leaning forward in her seat.

Mrs. Blake laughed, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

As Mrs. Blake turned the car into the parking lot, the bright neon sign for The Krispy Fried Chicken Shack came into view, its bold lettering framed by flashing lights. The giant chicken statue near the entrance stood proudly, one wing pointing toward the door as if inviting us in. The unmistakable aroma of fried chicken, buttery biscuits, and spices hit us like a wave the moment we rolled down the windows, and my stomach growled on cue.

From the backseat, Lily clapped her hands in excitement, her earlier fatigue momentarily forgotten. "Krispy Fried Chicken!" she squealed. "I love this place!"

"I thought you'd like it," Mrs. Blake said with a warm smile as she parked the car. "It's a special treat for your first day out of the hospital."

Sam practically launched himself out of the car as soon as it stopped, making a beeline for the giant chicken statue. "I'm getting the biggest combo meal they've got," he declared, his voice echoing slightly in the open air.

"You always say that," Mrs. Blake teased, stepping out of the car. "And then you leave half of it on your plate."

"Not this time," Sam replied, puffing out his chest like he was about to enter a fried chicken eating competition. "I've been training for this moment."

"Training for fried chicken?" Lily asked, giggling as Mrs. Blake helped her out of the car.

"Yep," Sam said, his expression completely serious. "It's an elite sport. Only the strongest survive."

"Pretty sure it's just called 'eating,'" I said, laughing as we walked toward the entrance.

Inside, the restaurant was alive with energy. The chatter of customers mixed with the clatter of plates and the faint hum of a country song playing from the speakers. The air was warm and smelled like comfort food heaven—fried chicken, buttery biscuits, and just a hint of something sweet.

A cheerful waitress with a name tag that read Betty greeted us at the door. "Y'all here for dinner or just to admire the statue out front?" she asked with a wink.

"Dinner," Mrs. Blake said with a chuckle. "Though I think my son might want to take the statue home."

Betty laughed as she grabbed a stack of menus. "Well, let's get y'all settled first."

She led us to a booth by the window, the table already stocked with napkins, ketchup bottles, and a small bucket of complimentary hush puppies. Sam wasted no time, grabbing one before we even sat down.

"I'm starting with these," he declared, popping the hush puppy into his mouth.

"Save some for the rest of us," Mrs. Blake chided gently, though she couldn't hide her smile.

We spent a few minutes poring over the menus, though it didn't take long for Lily to decide. She closed her menu with a flourish and announced, "Chicken tenders and mashed potatoes. No contest."

"Good choice," Mrs. Blake said. "What about you, Emily?"

I skimmed the menu, finally settling on a classic fried chicken plate with mac and cheese. "I'll go with this. Hard to mess up fried chicken."

Sam, however, had a much harder time deciding. He squinted at the menu like it was a complex math problem, muttering to himself about combos, sides, and "optimal chicken-to-biscuit ratios."

"Just pick something," I said, rolling my eyes.

"This is serious," he replied, holding up a hand to silence me. "You can't rush greatness."

When Betty returned to take our order, Sam dramatically pointed to the Krispy King Combo—a mountain of fried chicken, fries, coleslaw, and biscuits.

"Ambitious," Betty said, jotting it down. "You sure you can finish all that, sugar?"

"Absolutely," Sam said, nodding solemnly.

Betty raised an eyebrow but smiled. "I'll get y'all an extra basket of biscuits, just in case."

As we waited for the food, the conversation flowed easily. Sam launched into a story about how he and his friends had tried to build a slingshot out of recess supplies and got caught by their teacher.

"What were you even trying to slingshot?" I asked, laughing.

"Acorns," Sam admitted with a sheepish grin. "But apparently, it was a 'safety hazard.'"

"Sounds like Mr. Harris had a point," Mrs. Blake said, shaking her head with a grin.

When the food finally arrived, it was a feast worthy of its name. The chicken was golden and crispy, the mac and cheese gooey and rich, and the biscuits fluffy enough to make you believe in miracles. Sam stared at his Krispy King Combo like he'd just uncovered buried treasure.

"This," he declared, holding up a drumstick, "is the pinnacle of human achievement."

"You're such a dork," Lily said, giggling as she dipped a chicken tender into her mashed potatoes.

The table went quiet for a while as we all dug in, the only sounds the occasional crunch of fried chicken and murmurs of appreciation.

"This is the best," Lily said between bites, holding up a piece of her chicken tender like it was a trophy.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Mrs. Blake said, her voice full of warmth. "You deserve it after the week you've had."

As the meal wound down, Betty reappeared with dessert—a warm peach cobbler topped with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream.

"I saved the best for last," she said with a wink, setting it down in the center of the table.

Lily's eyes widened. "This is the best day ever," she said, grabbing her spoon.

We all took turns digging into the cobbler, the sweet, buttery flavors a perfect ending to the meal.

By the time we left the restaurant, everyone was full and content. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting the parking lot in a warm orange glow.

"Can we come here again soon?" Lily asked, her voice soft as she leaned against the car window.

"We'll see," Mrs. Blake said with a knowing smile. "For now, let's just focus on getting you rested and back to full strength."

As we drove home, Sam was already planning our next "family food adventure," complete with rankings and categories. Despite everything we'd been through, I couldn't help but smile. Being together like this—sharing food, laughter, and the little moments—made everything feel just a little brighter.