Luna Grace POV

The hospital room is too quiet except for the steady beep of monitors.

I press my palm against Noah's forehead. Still warm. Still breathing. But he hasn't opened his eyes in two days.

Two days of sitting here. Two days of watching my son lie motionless. Two days of wondering if we've destroyed him.

Dark circles shadow my eyes—I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror an hour ago and barely recognized myself. My hands shake when I try to hold a cup ...