I looked at her hand now, resting still and white on the blue hospital blanket.

“I’m here, baby,” I whispered. “I’m listening.”

At 3:15 A.M., I felt it again.

The squeezes were weaker this time, but the rhythm was undeniable.

…. . .-.. .–.

H. E. L. P.

My blood ran cold. I stared at her hand, waiting, barely daring to breathe. Nothing else came. My heart was pounding so hard I felt dizzy. I grabbed my phone and started recording, positioning the camera to capture both our hands.

I waited. Five minutes. Ten. The silence of the hospital pressed in on me.

Then, at 3:27 A.M., it happened again. Clear. Unmistakable.

M. E.