The bright lights of the operating room felt blinding, reflecting against the cold silver instruments that surrounded her. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, and the rhythmic beeping of the monitor echoed in Sofia's ears like a faint heartbeat of time that refused to slow. She could hear the muffled voices of the doctors and nurses, calm yet urgent, as they worked to bring her baby safely into the world.
Her body trembled, but not from fear. It was exhaustion, a deep kind that reached her bones. Still, she clung to the thought of Adam. The image of his face, the warmth of his voice, the strength of his hand in hers—these were what kept her from drifting away.
"Sofia, stay with us," a nurse said gently. "You are doing well. Just a little more."
She nodded faintly, her lips parting in a whisper no one could hear. For him. For our baby.
