“Mr. Herrera,” the doctor began carefully, “we need to be honest.”

Daniel’s throat went dry.

“We’ve tried everything. Multiple treatment protocols. International consultations. Tests we rarely perform. Your son’s condition is extraordinarily rare. In the few documented cases…”

He stopped.

The silence said the rest.

The hallway seemed to tilt.

“How long?” Daniel managed.

Dr. Bennett lowered his eyes. “Five days. Maybe a week… if we’re fortunate. At this point, our focus is keeping him comfortable.”

Five days.

That was a deadline for a contract.

Not for a child.

“There has to be something,” Daniel said, gripping the doctor’s sleeve. “Money isn’t a problem. I’ll fly in anyone. Name your price.”

“We’ve already consulted the best,” Dr. Bennett replied gently. “Sometimes medicine reaches its limits.”

Sometimes.

It sounded like surrender.

When the doctor left, Daniel stood frozen before finally walking back into the room.

Tommy lay under a white blanket, breathing with effort. His skin looked almost translucent. Daniel took his son’s cold hand and pressed it against his forehead like a prayer.

Tears came without permission.

How am I going to tell Elena?