But there it was.
The babies were also alive, somehow.
Grace’s eyes opened briefly.
“My babies,” she whispered. “Please… don’t let them die.”
Connor took off his suit jacket and wrapped the babies up.
“I have them,” he said. “I have them all.”
Then he shouted for an ambulance.
Grace woke up in the ICU 48 hours later. She was in pain all over.
His fingers were bandaged. His foot was tightly wrapped. His throat was burning.
A doctor was sitting next to her.
“I’m Dr. Vivian Matthews,” she said gently. “You’re safe. Your babies are alive.”
Grace tried to sit up.
—My babies?
—In the NICU. Critical, but stable. Your daughter weighs 1.4 kg. Your son weighs 1.3 kg. Tears rolled down Grace’s cheeks.
—¿Derek?
The doctor’s face hardened.
.
