The morning light spilled softly into the hospital room, catching the pale blue of the walls and the silver rails of Hayden’s bed. The day had started like the others; quiet and slow, with the faint hum of machines marking time.

But something in the air felt different. Hope had been hovering at the edges for days, small and fragile. Today, it felt closer.

The doctor and his team entered with a portable monitor and a calm smile. “Morning, Mr. Oakley,” he said warmly. “You up for a little ...