“Your boy’s lying wrong,” Leo continued, stepping closer. “His neck’s too far back. Air can’t flow right. My little brother died like that because we didn’t know how to fix it. But Grandma showed me later.”
A shiver ran through Jonathan. This barefoot kid had nothing—yet he spoke with certainty.
“What would you do?” Jonathan asked.
“I’d move him gently. And rub his chest and back so his lungs remember what to do.”
Suddenly, alarms blared inside Noah’s room. Nurses rushed in. His oxygen levels were crashing. Dr. Bennett stormed down the hall, shouting orders about emergency procedures—dangerous ones for such a fragile child.
Jonathan saw panic flicker across the medical team’s faces. Science was losing.
He looked at Leo, who stood calm amid chaos.
“Wait!” Jonathan shouted, pushing toward the ICU doors. “Let the boy in.”
“Mr. Reed, this is reckless!” Dr. Bennett snapped. “We have to operate!”
“You said he has days to live. Now you’re telling me this might not work either. I have nothing left to lose,” Jonathan replied, voice breaking. “Two minutes. If nothing changes, do whatever you must.”
The room hesitated.