A doctor shouted, “Stop! You’ll cause trauma!”
Four.
Leo pressed under the jaw and gave one quick, sharp thrust.
A small red plastic bead shot out and hit the marble floor with a sharp click.
For one frozen second, no one moved.
Then—
A cry.
Loud. Strong. Alive.
The heart monitor exploded back to life with jagged green lines.
Beeping.
Breathing.
Life.
The doctors stood pale and speechless.
It hadn’t been a tumor.
The baby had been choking on a bead lodged in his airway, hidden beneath swelling.
The machines searched for disease.
Leo searched for something small and real.
Isabelle collapsed in tears — this time from relief — clutching her crying baby.
Richard turned slowly toward Leo.
