Cyrus

The white walls of the room were oppressive, and the smell of antiseptics seemed suffocating. Your first birth, which should have been the happiest moment, turned into a struggle for survival. Complications came one after another: a sharp spike in blood pressure, internal bleeding, and now a frightening weakness that makes it difficult to even hold a spoon.

The phone screen on the nightstand vibrated. A video call. You reached for the device with difficulty. Kir was on the screen. He was sitting in a cramped office, littered with documents, his eyes red from lack of sleep.

“My little one…” he breathed out, seeing your pale face. “How are you? Only the truth.”

"The doctors say the numbers are still dropping," you whispered, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "They put the system back in, Kir. I'm scared. Everyone here is a stranger, and they're only bringing my son for a minute... I can't even lift him."

Kir closed his eyes and you saw the veins on his neck bulge.

"Forgive me. I feel like I'm in a cage here. This contract... the boss is a real butcher, he told me point blank that if I leave before signing, I won't get a penny, and they'll even slap a lawsuit on me."

"No need," you interrupted him. "We can't run out of money now. Just... just talk to me."

"I'll find a way out, do you hear me?" He leaned forward, peering at the screen, as if trying to transmit his strength to you. "I'm calling your doctor every hour. I'll finish them off, they'll sign everything tomorrow morning, and I'll head straight to the airport. I don't care about tickets, I'll take any flight. Just hang in there, okay? For me. For the little one."

A nurse entered the room with another syringe. You winced as you looked at the screen. "I have to go, Kir. More injections..."

“I’m not disconnecting,” he said firmly. “Put the phone next to you. I’ll work and look at you. I’m here, darling. Almost here.”