In the span of minutes that felt like hours, the doctor arrived, stepping into a scene that seemed to defy logic. He approached the crib tentatively, peering inside with a mixture of skepticism and awe. His practiced hands checked Noah’s vitals, each touch gentle and reverent.
“Noah’s responding,” he said finally, his voice a blend of surprise and cautious optimism. “He’s showing signs of awareness.”
Sarah’s heart soared, a hope so fragile it felt like a delicate glass figurine, yet it was there, alive and growing. Max shifted slightly, resting his head on Noah’s tiny stomach, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.
