William sat beside his father's bed all night, watching his chest rise and fall. The rhythm was wrong. It was too shallow and too restless. Their father never slept like this.
William drank cup after cup of coffee, forcing his eyes to stay open.
At dawn, sunlight slipped through the curtains. William jolted awake with a gasp. He didn't remember falling asleep. The room was bright. Too bright.
His eyes flew to the bed.
"Dad!" he shouted.
James never slept past sunrise. Never. A cold dread crawled up William's spine.
"Daddy…" His voice cracked as he gripped his father's shoulder.
There was no response.
"Dad!" He rolled James onto his back and started CPR immediately. "Come on… please… please…"
He fumbled for his phone with one hand, still pumping his father's chest, when his wife, Miranda rushed in.
"Honey—" She dropped the breakfast tray, porcelain shattering across the floor.
"Call 911—no. Get the chopper. Now!" William barked, not stopping compressions.
