In the quiet ICU, Malcolm lay in bed with machines around him, showing he was still alive but fading fast. He had been hurt badly in a shooting and was losing his strength. Margret sat next to him, holding his hand and crying softly as she spoke to him.
“Malcolm, please stay with us. We need you. Louis needs you,” she said, her voice trembling.
Malcolm opened his eyes with a great effort and looked at Margret. Although he seemed weak, there was a spark of determination in him.
“Can you hear me? It’s Elizabeth. I’m here,” she said, trying to be strong.
He nodded slowly and tried to say something. “Louis,” he whispered, asking for their son.
Margret hurried to find Louis, who was sitting in the waiting area, worried and distracted by his phone.
“Louis, your father is asking for you.
