The ICU doors slid open with a soft hiss. The room was dim, machines humming softly, their steady beeps was the only proof of life. Too quiet, too fragile. Ethan’s breath hitched the moment he saw her.
Aurora lay impossibly small beneath a web of tubes and wires, her tiny chest rising unevenly. Her skin looked too pale, lips faintly tinged blue. Every alarmed instinct in him roared awake. His knees nearly gave out.
Martha stopped just inside the doorway. “She’s been fighting,” she said gently. “But she’s tired.”
Ethan stepped closer, slowly, as if any sudden movement might break her. His hands trembled at his sides.
“So small,” he whispered.
She stirred at the sound of his voice. Her lashes fluttered, dark eyes cracking open just a fraction. A weak sound slipped past her lips, not qui
