"Where’s Amal?" Lucas asked, his voice sounding thin in the sterile quiet of the ward. He was already looking toward Bassinet Number 4, his eyes searching for the tiny, dark-haired "blob" that had become his only anchor to sanity.The bassinet was empty. The sheets were gone. He frowned. "Oh, he and his mother were discharged this morning," the nurse replied, looking up from her charts with a warm smile.Lucas’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His eyes widened, then narrowed, a sudden, hollow ache opening in his chest."Thanks to your donations, they could finally afford to go home," she explained calmly. "He’ll still need to come back for regular treatments, but he’s strong enough to be in his own bed now."Lucas forced a stiff, jagged smile. "That’s... that’s good news."He stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space. What was he to do now? The baby had become an important part of his routine. A very important person to him. The head nurse watched him, her heart
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