The hospital room felt different today.
Lighter.
Even though the scent of antiseptic still lingered, even though the steady beeping of the heart monitor filled the air, the crushing fear that had held me captive for days was finally gone.
Isabella was awake.
She was here.
And now, she was about to see Nova.
I stood near the hospital bed, watching as she sat up carefully, her body still weak but her eyes brighter than before. She looked anxious—restless—her fingers twisting in the sheets as she glanced toward the door.
She was waiting.
For him.
A soft knock broke the silence.
And then the door swung open.
My mother walked in, carrying Nova in her arms.
My breath hitched.
Nova’s wide, round eyes scanned the room, his chubby fingers gripping the fabric of my mother’s dress. He lo
