I knew my worries had been valid.
“Is he alright?” I asked frantically.

My heart was pounding louder than ever.

“He’s still under the weather and feeling weak, but he’s recovering.
Sam will be okay. I know my Sam is strong. He’ll get better, I sure hope so,” she replied.

“That’s good to hear,” I said.

I prayed that it wasn’t so bad.

“Please, come in,” she said, ushering me inside.

“Sam is upstairs, in his room. He’d be so happy that you’re hear to see him.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan,” I replied gratefully.

I remembered where Sam’s room was. I went upstairs and walked into his bedroom. My best memories with him had been in here.

“Hey, Seth,” Sam greeted, excited and surprised as I walked in.

“Hey, buddy,” I said, trying to smile.

Sam was in bed, and there was a pair of crutches nearby. His arm was in a cast, and he had several bandages. Sam’s left eye was black and blue.

Just the sight of him made me want to cry. But I knew I had to be strong.