Chapter 47
It was humbling how broken her body felt. Every shift of weight ached. Her hip radiated something sharp if she turned even a degree too far, and the stitches pulled at her stomach.
She wasn’t thinking about her injuries. She was thinking about him. The tiny baby who had come twelve weeks too early. Their son.
Luca hadn’t said much during the walk. His hand never left hers, letting her pace herself.
The NICU doors opened with a soft click, controlled and climate-sealed. Monitors beeped at intervals throughout the room. Every crib was spaced out intentionally, and tiny lives lived between glass and plastic domes.
They moved to the second incubator near the end of the row.
Inside, beneath a tangle of tubes and wires thin
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