Some moments stay with you forever — the kind you don’t plan, don’t expect, and couldn’t script even if you tried.

While I was in the hospital recently, sleep was a stranger. One early morning, long before the ward fully stirred, I wandered to the little kitchen for a quiet cup of coffee. A rare treat. A small escape.

And then it happened.

One of the nurses — one of the “night angels,” as we called them — greeted me warmly. I turned… and nearly fainted.

She was reading my book.

 A physical copy of Elm Brook Manor, right there in her hands.

She blinked at my face, concerned.

 “What’s wrong?” she asked.

I managed, “I… I’m the author.”

Then she nearly fainted.

I don’t know the math, and I won’t pretend I can calculate those odds — but what are the chances that in a hospital full of rooms, full of staff, full of books in the world… I would stumble upon someone quietly reading mine?

I sprinted back to my room, grabbed my camera, and captured the moment. A reminder that stories truly do travel on their own legs — and sometimes, they walk right back to you when you least expect it.

Thank you to every reader who makes moments like this possible.

 Your support means more than you know.

(Photo included with permission.)