Three Days to Break a Home
The third day came slowly. Too slowly. For three nights, Prisca barely slept. She stayed at the hospital beside Daniel’s bed, listening to the soft beeping of the machines and the low hum of nurses moving in the hallway. Every time Daniel shifted in his sleep, her heart jumped. Three days. That was how long the doctor had said it would take. Three days for a result that could either pass quietly… or destroy everything. That morning, Prisca sat in the chair beside Daniel’s bed, staring at the white wall in front of her. Daniel was awake, playing with the small toy car one of the nurses had given him. His fever had gone down. His cheeks had a little color again. If not for the IV line attached to his hand, he would look like any normal child. He laughed softly at something on the cart
- Writer
