The call came early.
Not urgent, not panicked, but calm in a way that made Willow's heart stumble before her mind could catch up. It was the kind of calm that carried weight precisely because it did not shout or rush or ask for immediate action.
"Good morning, Willow," the NICU nurse said. "Zana did very well overnight. If everything holds through rounds, the neonatologist will clear her for discharge today."
For a moment, Willow could not breathe.
Her hand tightened around the phone, the word today echoing in her head with a brightness that felt almost painful. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She had imagined this call so many times, rehearsed it in her mind with caution and fear layered over hope, but now that it had arrived, it felt unreal, as though it belonged to someone else's life.
