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The hours passed, and Thomas sat by her bedside, observing every breath she took. Emma's eyelids moved slowly before she eventually opened her eyes. The dim light of the hospital room fell on her face, and she looked around in confusion. Her gaze landed on her father, sitting by her bed and looking down at her with concern.

"Da-Dad-dy," she whispered softly as her eyes focused on him. A broad smile spread across Thomas's face, and he reached for her hand. "I'm here, my little dwarf. Daddy is here."

Emma smiled weakly and lightly squeezed her father's hand before closing her eyes again. Sleep seemed to still claim her, and Thomas didn't want to disturb her. He still couldn't believe how narrowly she had escaped a severe or even fatal injury. His heart was still filled with worry, but now that he knew Emma was alive and on the road to recovery, he felt a deep sense of relief. He could hardly believe how happy he was to see his daughter conscious again. With his hand, he traced along her cheek. "I love you, my little dwarf."


"How is she?" Anna asked with concern as she entered the hospital room accompanied by John Bates. Thomas subtly rolled his eyes. Why did Bates have to come along?

"Better, I think," Thomas explained briefly. "She was awake briefly," he added.

"That's good," Anna said confidently, sitting on the other side of the bed and lovingly looking at Emma. "She'll surely fully recover soon," she added, placing the stuffed animal she brought in Emma's hand.

Thomas nodded in agreement. "Yes, I hope so." His gaze briefly shifted to John Bates, who stood awkwardly in the corner, trying not to seem out of place.

Anna noticed the tension in Thomas's face and decided to address the obvious issue. "I never expected you to be so caring and concerned. It's a side of you I've never seen before."

A slight blush crept up Thomas's face, and he briefly averted his gaze. "I'm not as emotionally cold as everyone thinks, and certainly not a deadbeat father." He avoided looking at John Bates, who still stood in the corner.

"Perhaps it was unfair of me to label you as a deadbeat father," John Bates said tersely.

Anna glanced briefly between Thomas and her husband. Sensing the tension between the two men, she said, "Could you refill the water bottle?" She handed John the empty water bottle on the bedside table next to Emma's bed. John nodded briefly before leaving the hospital room.

"You're doing great, Thomas," Anna said, "Really, the way you take care of her. Despite how much we have to work, you always find a way to spend time with Emma."

"Oh, really?" Thomas raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Didn't you claim not too long ago that I never spend time with her?"

"I thought so, yes," Anna admitted honestly, placing her hand reassuringly on Thomas's shoulder. "But I stand corrected."

At that moment, John Bates reentered the room. Anna quickly removed her hand from Thomas's shoulder. John handed the water bottle to Anna. "Here's the water, Anna." Anna thanked him, while Thomas inwardly cursed that Bates had returned.

"Oh, damn," Anna exclaimed, pleadingly looking at her husband. "I forgot the book for Emma on the kitchen counter in our cottage. Could you please get it? I want Emma to have something to do when she wakes up," she then turned to Thomas, "I bought her a new book, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."

"An adventure book, Anna? She fell from the treehouse. Don't give her even more dangerous ideas," Thomas stated.

"I think all of this is a lesson for her, and she'll stay away from treehouses in the future," Anna said positively.

Bates cleared his throat. "I'll get the book," he announced and once again left the hospital room. Thomas looked at Anna with a grateful expression.

"I know," Anna said, "John insisted on coming, but honestly, we thought Emma would already be awake."


As Emma finally woke up a few hours later, keeping her eyes open for a longer period, she attempted to sit up. However, the attempt failed as the pain in her head quickly reminded her of the reality of her injury. Thomas acted swiftly, his hands gently holding her back and urging her to lie down. "No, Emma. Lie down. You need to rest," he spoke gently, his concerned gaze searching her eyes.

"Where am I?" she asked, resigning herself back onto the pillow.

"At the Downton hospital. You have a concussion," Thomas explained softly, biting his lip slightly. "You gave me quite a scare."

"I didn't mean to. I lost track of time and rushed so much that I somehow lost my balance. I wanted to be on time so that you could see that you can trust me," she whispered.

Thomas gently stroked her cheek and smiled reassuringly. "I always trust you, Emma. But now is not the time to justify yourself. You need to rest. We'll talk about everything later."

Emma shook her head. "I wanted to prove that I'm already grown up and can be home by curfew."

Thomas sighed. "You don't have to prove anything to me," he said, taking a deep breath. "I know I can always rely on you."

"I'm sorry," Emma said softly.

"It was an accident, Emma," Thomas said. "Accidents happen. You don't need to apologize for anything."

Emma sighed in relief and closed her eyes for a moment to dispel the headache. Thomas ran his fingers through her hair and asked with concern, "How are you feeling?"

Emma opened her eyes again. "My head still hurts."


Dr. Clarkson entered the room. "As I see, you've woken up, and headaches are entirely normal after such a fall." The doctor conducted a few brief examinations to assess Emma's condition better, checking her pupil response, motor skills, and inquiring about her well-being.

"Is everything okay?" Thomas asked, his eyes on Emma's pale face.

Dr. Clarkson nodded as he neatly packed his instruments back into his bag. "Yes, everything looks fine so far. If Emma continues to recover well, there's no reason she can't be discharged in a day or two."

"Only in a day or two?" Emma exclaimed horrified. "What am I doing here for so long?"

"Resting – that's a medical order," Dr. Clarkson explained matter-of-factly. "Your body needs time to recover, and we want to ensure no further complications arise."

Emma sighed in frustration, and Thomas tried to lighten the mood. "Anna got you a new book," he said with a smile.

"Emma should avoid any exertion, including reading," the doctor advised.

Emma sighed again, but Thomas was already pondering a solution. "But I can read to her, right?"

"That should be fine," Dr. Clarkson said before leaving the room to attend to his other duties. "I'll come back later to check on you, young lady," he added with a friendly smile. When the doctor left, Thomas turned to Emma again. "So, do you want me to read to you?"

However, Emma took the opportunity while Thomas was reaching for the book to gather herself again. Before Thomas knew it, Emma hugged him, saying, "I'm glad you're here."

Thomas smiled gently as Emma nestled against him. He felt her warmth and a hint of relief between them. "Of course, I'm here with you, my little dwarf." As he spoke these words, Mrs. Patmore and Daisy entered the room.


"See, I told you she's awake," Mrs. Patmore whispered to Daisy. Then, she addressed the Barrows, "Emma, my dear, it's so lovely to finally see you awake and lively. I brought you a little something. You've become so thin."

Thomas rolled his eyes. His child was by no means undernourished or thin. Emma was just a normal 9-year-old girl.

Daisy carried a large basket, from which Mrs. Patmore served various dishes onto the small bedside table. She brought out pancakes, cookies, sandwiches, and a warm tea. "We don't want you to starve. I've heard hospital food isn't particularly tasty."

Emma gratefully smiled and settled back onto her bed. "Thank you, Mrs. Patmore, Daisy. It looks delicious."

"Oh, that's not all, my dear," Mrs. Patmore announced with a mischievous grin. "I also brought a little dessert," and she produced a pudding from the basket.

Mrs. Patmore chuckled and sat down on a chair next to the bed. "Now, my dear, eat something. You need to regain your strength."

While Emma delighted in the delicious dishes, Mrs. Patmore and Daisy took seats on chairs near the bed. The atmosphere in the room lightened as they began to engage in lively conversation.

"I remember the day when you helped me prepare a dinner," Mrs. Patmore reminisced.


Flashback 1915

The kitchen was filled with the scent of spices and freshly baked bread. Mrs. Patmore was busy preparing for the upcoming dinner for the Crawley family. As Emma raised her hands in an attempt to mimic Mrs. Patmore, the cook couldn't help but smile.

"Well, what do we have here?" Mrs. Patmore exclaimed as she spotted little Emma. "Are you here to help me?"

The girl's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. In her childlike imagination, she was already a great chef. Behind the girl, Mr. Carson appeared. "Mrs. Patmore, could you take care of Emma Grace?"

"Well," the cook stammered, "I have to prepare the dinner."

"I know, I know," Mr. Carson said, "But Mrs. O'Brien is in no condition to look after Emma Grace again."

"That was the silliest idea I've heard so far," Mrs. Patmore agreed. "Well," she sighed, "I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thank you, Mrs. Patmore," Carson thanked her and turned to the three-year-old. "Be good, Emma Grace."

"Uh-huh," Emma nodded in agreement. "I, good," she repeated the words and added with a cheeky grin, "Never," quietly.

Mrs. Patmore tried to control the chaos as Emma continued to joyfully run around in the kitchen. The cook contemplated how to involve little Emma meaningfully without jeopardizing the dinner. She couldn't help but laugh. "You're truly a little whirlwind, aren't you, Emma?"

Mrs. Patmore picked up the little girl and placed her securely on the kitchen counter. Emma looked with wide eyes around her, where the ingredients and cooking utensils were laid out.

"Come, my dear, we'll prepare something delicious together," Mrs. Patmore said. "How about helping me stir?" Mrs. Patmore suggested, showing Emma how to carefully mix the ingredients. The little one received the wooden spoon with a serious expression and tried to imitate the cook's movements. In her childlike innocence, she had no idea of the chaos she was causing as the first clouds of flour rose. Emma started forming small flour mounds that resembled snowmen. In no time, she was covered from head to toe in white flour. Mrs. Patmore couldn't help but laugh heartily.

"Well, maybe we could focus on something simpler," Mrs. Patmore joked, redirecting Emma's attention to a bowl of half-kneaded dough. "How about kneading?"

Emma nodded excitedly and plunged her hands into the dough. She took the dough out of the bowl and threw it like a snowball. Then, Mrs. Patmore suddenly heard a loud crash. She turned around and saw that Emma had accidentally knocked a bottle of olive oil off the table with her dough ball. A small oil slick spread on the floor.

"Oh, my goodness! That was a little mishap," Mrs. Patmore remarked and hurried to limit the damage. Emma looked at her with big eyes and smiled innocently, "Oops."

Despite the chaos in the kitchen, Mrs. Patmore couldn't help but chuckle at the sweet innocence of little Emma. "You may not be making the kitchen cleaner, but you're certainly making it happier, my dear," she said, wiping the floor.

End of the flashback


Mrs. Patmore and Daisy didn't have much time; after all, they had to prepare dinner. So, the Barrows were left to themselves again. Emma hadn't managed to eat everything Mrs. Patmore brought, even with assistance from Thomas.

"Can you read to me from the book, please?" Emma asked. Thomas nodded and reached for the adventure book.

He began to read with a calm voice, and Emma's attention focused on the familiar voice. After a while, Thomas felt Emma's breathing become calmer, realizing that she had fallen asleep. Carefully, he set the book aside and lovingly covered her with a blanket.