The morning light streaming into the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit felt different than the harsh, gray dawn of the previous day. It washed over the quiet room in warm, golden hues, illuminating the steady, regular numbers pulsing on the cardiac monitors.
Maya sat on the edge of the plush armchair beside the bed, her hand resting over Toby’s small fingers. He was still sleeping soundly, the pale, translucent tone of his skin replaced by a healthy, faint flush. For the first time in three years, the constant, low-grade murmur of panic in Maya’s chest had vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar, almost disorienting sense of peace.
The heavy door to the room swung open with a soft click, and Dr. Keller walked in, holding a digital tablet. Beside him stood two surgical nurses carrying a light tra
