The man who made terrible pancakes because Leo preferred them shaped like dinosaurs.
The man who repaired broken toys at midnight and never complained when our son insisted on helping.
The man who held my hair when morning sickness made me miserable during pregnancy.
I knew those moments had been real.
I also knew his deception was real.
Before I could decide what to say next, Leo’s monitor began sounding a different alarm.
A nurse hurried through the doorway.
Her name was Hannah, and she had been caring for Leo since we arrived.
She studied the screen, then immediately reached for the emergency call button.
“Doctor Rivera, I need you in Leo’s room.”
I looked at the monitor.
His oxygen saturation had fallen again.
“What’s happening?”
I asked.
Hannah adjusted the oxygen equipment with practiced movements.
“His lungs are struggling, Clara, and we need additional support immediately.”
