Leo opened his eyes just enough to recognize our voices.
His fingers moved weakly around mine.
Then the team asked us to step outside while they prepared the procedure.
I stumbled into the hallway.
David caught me before my shoulder struck the wall.
For several seconds, I could only cry against his flannel shirt.
“I should have brought him sooner,” I sobbed.
“You brought him when his symptoms became alarming, Clara.”
“What if I missed something?”
“We’re not going to turn this into another reason for you to punish yourself.”
I covered my mouth.
Through the glass, I watched the medical team move around our little boy.
Four years earlier, I had held him against my chest and promised to protect him from everything.
Now I couldn’t even hold his hand.
David wrapped both arms around me.
For once, his money meant absolutely nothing.
No financial empire could command Leo’s lungs to work or guarantee that the treatment would succeed.
