The ride back to the hospital feels longer than it should. Every streetlight flashes across the windshield like a slow metronome, ticking off the seconds I’m not ready for.Dad drives in silence, Mom staring out the window. None of us speak, and yet the weight of what just happened follows us like a shadow.When we finally step into Oliver’s room, Isabella is already there. She rises quickly from her chair, searching my face.“What did they say?”I glance at Oliver before answering. He’s propped up against the pillows, paler than he should be but awake, eyes alert. His gaze locks on mine, steady, waiting.I clear my throat. “Can we have a minute?” I ask Isabella softly.She hesitates, then nods, brushing her fingers across Oliver’s hand before slipping past me. Dad and Mom follow, closing the door behind them.Now it’s just me and him.For a while, I just stand there, caught in the hum of the machines and the soft shuffle of sheets as he adjusts his position.“Jude,” he says finally,
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