“The surgery was a complete success,” Sarah smiled, wiping a tear from her cheek. “His heart is beating strong inside her right now. She’s awake, and all she wants is to meet the mother of the boy who saved her life.”
Two days later, I gathered every ounce of courage I had left and walked into the cardiology wing of the city hospital.
When I pushed open the door to Room 512, a young girl with long dark hair turned toward me. She was pale and thin, but her eyes were bright and full of life.
The moment she saw me, Maya’s breath hitched. She set her sketchbook aside and sat up in bed.
“Mrs. Vance?” she whispered softly.
I couldn’t speak. I just walked slowly to her bedside.
Maya looked at me with profound reverence, her eyes filling with tears. She reached out, took my right hand, and gently placed it directly over the center of her chest.
Underneath her gown, beneath the surgical bandages, I felt it.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A strong, steady, vibrant rhythm. It was the exact same heartbeat I used to listen to when Caleb was a baby sleeping on my chest. It was the rhythm that had filled my quiet house for nineteen years.
“He’s still here,” I sobbed, sinking into the chair beside her bed. “My boy is still here.”
Maya wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled softly. “He told me all about you, Mrs. Vance. He told me how you sold everything to fight for him. He told me you were the bravest woman in the world.”
