The morning I found the baby changed everything. I had thought I was just walking home after another grueling night shift at the hospital, my body aching, my mind exhausted, and my baby boy already waiting at home.
But that faint, desperate cry pierced the usual city hum, pulling me toward something I never could have expected. Saving that child didn’t just alter his fate—it rewrote mine, in ways I could not yet understand.
I never thought my life could twist like this. Four months ago, I had given birth to my son, naming him after his father, who never got the chance to hold him. Cancer had taken my husband when I was five months pregnant.
He had wanted nothing more than to be a father, to watch…
