A full year passed in the blink of an eye.

  The tiny baby who once lay crying in a wooden crib was now crawling around the house with boundless energy—and the Grandal home had only grown louder, warmer, and livelier.

  One afternoon, Meryl was outside the garden picking vegetables for dinner when Hale returned home.

  “I’m home!” he called.

  Meryl turned, wiping sweat from her brow—only to see her husband covered in new scratches, his shirt torn in several places.

  “You went into the cave again!?” she yelled.

  Hale smiled sheepishly. “It’s nothing. These will heal in a few days—”

  Meryl sighed, raised her arms and began chanting, a faint glow surrounding her hands.

  “Forgive the broken one, return what they have lost. Share a part of mine, patch their own mistake…”

  As she healed him, Hale noticed something small moving toward them.

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  Harlyn. Crawling across the grass, determined and wobbly.

  “Oh? The little angel came to greet daddy today?”

  “Harlyn!” Meryl gasped. “Why are you out here? You’re all dirty now!”

  Before she could pick her up, something unbelievable happened—

  Harlyn pushed herself up with her hands… then stood on her tiny, trembling legs.

  Both parents froze.

  “Harlyn…?” Meryl whispered, covering her mouth in shock.

  They looked at each other.

  Then they both burst into cheers.

  “Come on, Harlyn!”

  “You can do it!”

  “Harlyn, walk to us!”

  Neighbors passing by sighed and shook their heads.

  This family again… it’s been a whole year of yelling and screaming over that child…

  Each unsteady step made Hale and Meryl gasp.

  But slowly—and with great effort—Harlyn made her way to them.

  Meryl shrieked and waved at a passing old man. “That’s my Harlyn! That’s my daughter!”

  The old man flinched and hurried away.

  Hale lifted Harlyn high into the air, spinning her around. “Now this is the daughter of the Grandal family!”