Heath’s POV
I didn’t believe in miracles anymore.
Not after the blood. Not after the silence. Not after watching the two halves of my soul lie in separate rooms, both barely clinging to life. And yet… she stood there.
Talia. Small. Fragile-looking. Blind.
Powerful.
I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t. But something deep inside me... something older than instinct, older than fear... recognized her as something other. Not dangerous.
Just… inevitable.
.....
The NICU was quiet. Too quiet.
Machines hummed softly, a rhythm I had grown to hate. Every beep was a reminder that life, for my daughter, wasn’t natural... it was being forced to continue.
Posy lay inside the small enclosure, wrapped in wires and tubes that looked too big for her tiny body.
She wasn’t blue anymore. But she wasn’
