At exactly 3:17 in the afternoon, her son was born.
His first cry filled the delivery room.
Joanna fell back against the pillow, tears sliding down her cheeks.
But this time, they were not tears of grief.
They were tears of relief.
Of gratitude.
Of love so deep it frightened her.
“Is he okay?” she asked breathlessly.
A nurse wrapped the tiny newborn in a soft blanket and smiled.
“He’s perfect.”
The baby was just about to be placed in Joanna’s arms when the attending doctor entered the room.
Dr. Robert Wright.
Respected.
Calm.
A man known across the hospital for never losing control, even in the worst emergencies.
He glanced down at Joanna’s chart.
Then he looked at the baby.
And froze.
All the color drained from his face.
