Isabella's point of view
The room felt smaller than it should have. The walls, once familiar, now seemed cold, almost suffocating. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt safe here, in this space where everything had been so carefully orchestrated by forces beyond my control. The flickering light overhead did nothing to calm the chaos inside my mind. It only served to highlight the eerie silence that enveloped me, amplifying the thoughts that were pressing down on me like a heavy weight.
The baby. The baby that had been my only reason to breathe for so long, lying helpless in that incubator. A machine was doing the job of a mother, the delicate rhythm of its beeps both a comfort and a terror. Every second that ticked by felt like a countdown, but to what? To her survival? Or was this the beginning of the end?
