The soft hum of the hospital lights blended with the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor — a quiet song that had become the soundtrack of Maryanne’s life.
She stood by the window, watching the city lights flicker like distant stars, trying to remember what peace used to feel like.
Evan lay motionless on the bed, his face pale but peaceful. Every breath he took was a fragile miracle — one she feared could stop at any moment.
They said the worst was over. But Maryanne knew… the worst wasn’t always what doctors could measure.
