A German doctor came out of a room to meet them in a crowded hall. A translator stood beside him, ready to assist.
‘You are the parents of the boy who came in shot?’ the doctor inquired, looking to Ettore and Contessa standing at the front of the group. Ettore had his arms around his wife to keep her steady on her feet.
‘Yes,’ Ettore croaked. His throat was dry.
‘He is alive but not conscious. He has lost a lot of blood. We will do our best but our medical supplies are limited. There is a hospital in town. We might be able to move him there, but not just yet. We need to stabilise him.’
Ettore and Contessa nodded as the information was translated. They were relieved to hear he was alive, but knew his life was still in danger.
‘Do what you can,’ Ettore whispered. ‘Please doctor …’ He wa
