Hours. Endless hours. Waiting. Not knowing. Terror consuming everything.

Leo paced. Couldn't sit. Couldn't think. Just moved. Prayed. Waited.

Dante stayed close. Solid. Present. Not speaking. Just being there. Anchor in chaos.

Sienna held Leo when he broke. When fear overwhelmed. When nineteen-year-old boy surfaced beneath the adult responsibilities. "They'll be okay. Both of them. They're fighters. Like you. Like us. They'll survive this."

Finally. A doctor emerged. Exhausted. Blood on scrubs. Serious expression.

"Mr. Moretti?"

"Yes. How are they? My wife? My baby? Are they alive?"

"They're both alive. Your wife is stable. Surgery went well. She's recovering. She'll be fine."

"And the baby?"

"Your daughter. She's alive. But...