Chapter 7 - The Trial of Hope
Dr. Karl Vance arrived at Lakefront Children’s Hospital at 3:00 AM on a Thursday.
The specialized enzyme treatment was prepared in a sterile environment. Dr. Sloan and Dr. Vance stood on either side of Evan’s bed. Daniel, Nneka, and Amara watched from behind the protective glass window.
“This is the first human trial of this specific enzyme formulation,” Dr. Sloan reminded Daniel gently. “The next forty-eight hours will decide everything.”
Daniel nodded. “Do it.”
The clear fluid was slowly administered into Evan’s IV line.
The first twelve hours were agony for Daniel. Evan developed a high fever, his heart rate spiked, and the monitors beeped incessantly. Daniel did not sleep, leave the room, or sit down. He stood by the bed, holding his son’s hand, willing his own strength into the boy’s body.
Amara sat in the corner of the room, quietly stitching a new cloth companion for Evan—a little black dragon with soft wool wings.
At the thirty-sixth hour, the fever suddenly broke.
The chaotic red lines on the heart monitor smoothed out into steady, rhythmic green peaks. The oxygen saturation numbers began to climb—88%, 92%, 96%.
Dr. Sloan stepped forward, checking Evan’s eyes and listening to his breathing. She looked up at Daniel, her professional mask slipping to reveal real, tearful relief.
“His organs are stabilizing,” she whispered. “The enzyme is working. The cell degeneration has stopped.”
Evan slowly opened his eyes. He looked up at Daniel, his voice faint but clear.
“Dad?”
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Daniel sank to his knees beside the bed, burying his face in the sheets as tears finally broke through the hardened exterior of Chicago’s most feared man.
“I’m here, son,” Daniel choked out. “I’m right here.”
