Anthony cradled his little boy, smothering him with kisses and gentle whispers. Back in the hospital room, he carefully held Henry down, coaxing him to take the medicine from the night before.
Henry’s illness was like a stubborn storm, with fevers coming and going. Each round involved medicine, tears, coughs, and eventually a break in the fever. Throughout the day, Anthony clung to his precious son, his heart aching too much to give him more medicine. That night, both Anthony and Mia found no comfort in sleep. Mia kept a close watch on Henry’s temperature, checking it every so often. Anthony tried to persuade her to rest, but she shook her head, saying, “Sweetheart, you’re as worried as I am. I know you can’t sleep either, so let’s just get through this together.”
The next day, a nurse walked in with a syringe. “Mr. and Mrs. Cedillo, Dr. Lee has ordered an injection for Henry since his fever hasn’t gone down yet.”
Mia looked at her sleepy-eyed son and gently took off his diaper. Henry, confused, twisted around curiously until a sudden coldness on his skin caught him by surprise.
As the needle went in, Mia instinctively shut her eyes, murmuring, “Oh, honey!”
Henry’s cries pierced the air, his little mouth wide open, tears streaming down onto Mia’s sleeve. Anthony shielded his son’s eyes with one hand and pressed a cotton swab on the injection site with the other, comforting him, “It’s alright, Henry. Mom and Dad are right here. This will help you feel better.”
Henry’s cries were heart-wrenching, unlike anything they had heard before.
“Where’s my grandson?”
“My precious little guy?”
An elderly voice echoed anxiously from the nurse’s station. Hansen looked around, trying to figure out where to go.
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