Chapter 97
Adrian stood in the NICU, watching his son struggle to breathe.
David Marcus Clarke. Four pounds, three ounces. Thirty-seven weeks. Too small. Too early. Too fragile.
Tubes and wires everywhere. Monitors beeping. Oxygen mask covering half his tiny face.
"He's stable for now," the neonatal doctor said. "But his lungs aren't fully developed. He's working hard to breathe on his own."
"Will he make it?" Adrian's voice was hollow. Numb.
"Too early to say. The next twenty-four hours are critical. If he can maintain oxygen levels, if his lungs strengthen..." The doctor paused. "We're doing everything we can."
Everything they can. Not enough. Never enough.
Adrian wanted to touch his son. To hold him. To promise him everything would be okay.
But he couldn't even get close. The i
