The morning sun had just begun to light up the Manhattan skyline when Cassidy stepped out of the taxi and headed towards the hospital's private wing. She moved quickly, her breath forming a slight mist in the chilly air. In one hand, she clutched a paper bag filled with coffee and pastries—something small, something familiar to hold onto.
This time, she hadn't brought Claire along. Not yet. There were too many emotions, too many unresolved conversations. Cassidy wanted to face her family first—prepare herself—before introducing them to the little girl who had changed everything.
As she entered the VIP suite where her mother was being treated, Cassidy slowed her steps. The first thing that struck her was the sterile scent of antiseptic, followed by the soft hum of monitors and the steady rhythm of the heart rate machine. And then, she saw her.
Kyra.
