puzzle of her condition.

Rena’s ward became a sanctuary of vigil, her name a constant whisper in the air, a plea for her to rejoin the world of the living.

Yet Rena remained trapped in the realm of unconsciousness, her form lying still, untouched by the world that continued to spin around her.

Six days came and went, a slow and agonizing passage of time that left Rena’s family on the precipice of despair.

As the clock struck ten in the evening, a pivotal consultation unfolded, the corridor enveloped in an icy chill that mirrored the uncertainty that hung in the air.

Waylen, clad only in a white shirt and trousers, stood in the sterile corridor, his breath visible in the cold.

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The doctor’s words pierced the silence.

“It has been six days.

Our intensive examinations have revealed that the fetus’s heart rate within Mrs.

Fowler’s womb is steadily declining.

If she doesn’t awaken within the next forty-eight hours, both the baby and her health will be in grave danger.

Our unanimous suggestion is artificial interference.

The weight of those words bore down on Waylen, his grip on the doctor’s collar tightening involuntarily.

his voice quaking with a mixture of

face of Waylen’s emotion, met his gaze with calm

stretched between them, a tense silence hanging

on the doctor’s collar, his voice

“I apologize.

voice remained steady as he said,

Fowler.

Waylen found himself swallowed by the cold

as relentless as time itself, an unending cascade of

Rena Loved the baby, and

passed, but she remained cocooned in her

raced, grappling with the unbearable

woke? How could he bear the weight of a world without

and a fierce determination battled within

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burned bright, a tiny flame that seemed to

of that cigarette, Waylen returned to

mother-in-law, was diligently

cut through the

Tears glistened in

“Yes.

has taken

from his mother’s hand and

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