Evalina sat at the side of the bed, gently holding Hope’s tiny hand as the infant lay nestled in the incubator. Her entire body felt weightless, as if her soul was drifting—too tired to cry, too shattered to speak.

Hunter entered quietly, carrying a glass of water and a tiny jacket for Hope. He didn’t want to disturb her. But even the silence wrapped around him like an invisible wall.

He sat down.

Said nothing.

Eventually, Evalina spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking to a fading memory of herself.

“Have you ever loved someone… then suddenly felt like a stranger in their life?”

Hunter lowered his...