The alarms started beeping before anyone could process what was happening. Aaliyah felt a sharp tightening in her stomach, stronger than anything before, and suddenly the room shifted into chaos—nurses rushing in, monitors flashing, voices rising. Damiano's heart nearly stopped when he saw the numbers dropping on the screen.
Doctor: "Her vitals are unstable. The baby's heartbeat is decelerating—this is critical."
Aaliyah clutched Damiano's hand, her breath short and uneven.
Aaliyah: "Damiano… it hurts… something's wrong—"
Damiano: "I'm right here, amore. I'm right here. Stay with me."
But the doctor cut in sharply.
Doctor: "We need to act immediately."
Damiano's blood ran cold.
This wasn't just another scare—this was the moment they had been dreading.
Outside the hospital, a miracle was happening.
The same people who once attacked Aaliyah—the blogs, the fans, the Italian press—were now flooding the internet with support.
#ProtectAaliyah
#FightForEstrella
#TeamAaliyahAndDamiano
Reporters spoke softly for the first time. Crowds held candles. Someone projected "WE'RE WITH YOU, AALIYAH" on a nearby building. Both the USA and Italy were united in one message:
"We're sorry. We're with you. Don't give up."
Inside the hospital, Damiano barely noticed. His entire world was Aaliyah—and Estrella.
Winona arrived first, breathless, terrified, her eyes fierce with maternal fear.
Winona: "Where is she? What happened? Someone talk to me!"
Damiano, shaking, pointed toward the emergency room.
Dylan arrived seconds later, chest heaving, panic all over his face.
Dylan: "Is she alive? Did something happen to the baby?"
For the first time in years, Winona and Dylan didn't argue. They didn't blame each other.
They stood together—united, trembling, terrified—for their daughter.
The doctor finally approached them, his expression grim.
Doctor: "Aaliyah's stress levels have crossed the threshold. Her heart rate is unstable, and the baby is in distress. To protect both of them, we need to put Aaliyah into an induced coma for at least twenty-four hours."
Damiano felt the floor tilt under him.
Damiano: "A coma? No—no, she needs me awake—she needs—"
Doctor: "If she stays awake, she could lose the baby… or her own life."
Winona covered her mouth, a sob escaping.
Dylan stepped forward, voice breaking.
Dylan: "Do whatever you have to do… just save them."
Aaliyah was wheeled into the ICU, her face pale, her body trembling weakly. Damiano walked beside her, refusing to let go of her hand.
Aaliyah: whispering "Damiano… don't let them take her from me…"
Damiano: "They won't. I swear. I swear on my life."
She looked up at him, eyes heavy with fear and love.
Aaliyah: "I'm scared…"
Damiano leaned down, his forehead touching hers.
Damiano: "Sleep, amore. Rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
The doctors inserted the IV, and within seconds, her eyes fluttered closed.
Damiano's chest collapsed with grief as her body went still.
The monitor beeped steadily.
Estrella's heartbeat remained fragile, but alive.
Aaliyah was officially in a 24-hour coma.
When the doctors left, Winona wrapped her arms around Damiano as he cried into her shoulder—raw, broken, shaking.
Dylan placed a hand on Damiano's back, his voice soft.
Dylan: "We're not leaving her side. None of us."
And the three of them—her boyfriend, her mother, her father—formed a circle around Aaliyah's bed, guarding her from the storm, from the world, from everything that had tried to break her.
Outside the ICU window, thousands of messages flashed across screens:
"Stay strong, Aaliyah."
"We're praying for Estrella."
"Damiano, you're not alone."
And for the first time since the nightmare began…
the world wasn't against them.
It was holding its breath with them.