You sat in the hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic surrounding you as you watched Jasper sleep. He had been given medication to ease his pain, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound breaking the silence. Marcus was at work, pouring himself into his business while you sat at your son’s side, waiting.

Then the beeping quickened. You shot up, heart racing as the doctors rushed in, panic setting in as the room became a blur of movement. They were trying, but nothing was happening—until there was nothing but silence.

He was gone.

"They said he had months," you whispered, unable to process what had just happened.

"Do something!" you screamed at the doctors.

"We can’t," one of them said, their voice somber. "He had a brain bleed... there was no way to save him."