Chapter 10

THEN:

The harsh,fluorescent lights of the emergency room illuminated Victoria"s face in a pale, ghostly glow. Sarah"s voice trembled with fear as she pleaded for help, her hands longing for something or someone to hold onto, to cling to, while the world crumbled beneath her.

Her daughter was lifeless; there was no heartbeat. The terror of the realization threatened to break her.

"Victoria, please… someone, anyone… you have to save her!" Her words echoed off the sterile walls, filling the air with desperation and hopelessness.

Steven was a crumpled figure on the cold tile floor, his face a mask of silent horror, hands pressed into the unforgiving surface as if trying to ground himself against the possibility of a world without his daughter.

"Charging to 200 joules," announced one of the doctors, a steely note of determination threading her voice. "Everyone clear?"

"Clear!" echoed the medical team in unison, stepping back from the small form lying motionless on the gurney.

Sarah"s eyes locked onto Victoria"s chest as it arched in response to the defibrillator"s pulse, a heart-wrenching mimicry of life that left her gasping for breath. The seconds stretched into eternities, each one an agonizing lifetime as they waited for a sign, any sign, of hope.

Then, a symphony of beeps erupted from the monitor—a chaotic yet beautiful melody that signaled the stubborn beat of Victoria"s heart resuming its duty.

"Her rhythm"s back!" shouted a nurse, relief washing over her features.

Sarah"s knees buckled, and Steven caught her just in time. They clung to each other, their embrace a lifeline amidst the storm of fear and relief.

"She"s back, Steven, she"s back," Sarah sobbed, her words muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

The doctors busied themselves with stabilizing Victoria, connecting tubes and wires that would tether her to the machines now responsible for sustaining her fragile life. Steven, every line of his body speaking the language of protective vigilance, turned to Sarah, whose eyes were fixed on their daughter"s pale face.

"Sarah, love, you should go home. Get some rest," he murmured, his voice a tender command. "You have that important meeting tomorrow, remember?"

"No, I can"t leave her," Sarah protested weakly, her exhaustion written in the dark circles under her eyes and the tremble in her voice. "I don't care about the meeting."

"Shh, I"ll be here," Steven assured her, his hand squeezing hers with a strength that belied his own fear. "I won"t leave her side. You need to sleep."

Reluctance warred with the knowledge that he was right; she was running on fumes, her body and soul pushed to the brink. With a final glance at Victoria, the rise and fall of her chest a metronome counting the precious seconds of her continued fight, Sarah nodded.

"Call me, any change—" she started to say.

"Immediately," Steven interjected, understanding the unsaid. "Now, go."

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Victoria"s forehead, a silent promise to return, before allowing Steven to usher her out of the room. As the door closed behind her, Sarah's steps faltered under the weight of the night"s events, her mind echoing with the beeps of the monitors and the steadfast beating of her child"s heart.