"Please, I'm begging you, save my baby. He still has a heartbeat. I can feel it."
The doctor looked at me with pity and gently pried my hand away.
"Ma'am, I'm so sorry for your loss. There's no longer any sign of life."
As I watched the doctor walk away, a deep sense of helplessness and despair washed over me.
"The procedure requires a family member's signature. Mrs. Larson, when will your family arrive?"
The nurse stood nearby, holding the consent form.
I pulled out my phone and tried calling Bernard again.
Still, no one answered.
The cold air in the operating room made me shiver uncontrollably. The harsh light of the surgical lamp beamed down, making it impossible for me to keep my eyes open.
I had a dream.
In the dream, I was locked in the corner of a public restroom, trembling.
"Please, let me out. I have a dance competition today, I can't miss it. Please."
Suddenly, someone poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I felt a biting chill rush through my entire body.
That December was unusually cold.