Beck slumped forward like his body had given out. He pressed his hands over his face, elbows on his knees. Jared stood frozen, eyes glassy but dry. Myla just sat there, staring at the doctor like the ground had shifted beneath her.
Jared cleared his throat so it wouldn't crack and betray his emotions. “What does it mean for the surgery?” He finally asked. “Did it work? Will he regain the function of his legs?”
The doctor’s shoulders sagged slightly. “We won’t know until he wakes up,” he admitted. “The operation went as planned, but his response will depend on his body’s recovery. Right now, we're focusing on keeping him stable. The ICU team will monitor him around the clock.”
“Can we see him?” Myla whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Not tonight,” the doctor replied. “He’s still in p
