The silence of the hospital corridor was more deafening than any siren. Keifer stood frozen as the lead surgeon stepped out, his surgical mask hanging around his neck and his expression grim.
"Mr. Watson," the doctor began, his voice heavy. "The internal hemorrhaging is severe. We are losing the mother's vitals, and the twins' heart rates are dropping rapidly. If we don't act in the next five minutes, we could lose all three."
Keifer's breath hitched. "Then save them. Save all of them."
"We are trying," the doctor replied, looking Keifer straight in the eye. "But if it comes down to a split-second decision in there... if we can only prioritize one... who do we save first? Your wife, or your children?"
The Section E boys gasped. Ci-N hid his face in Felix's jacket, and Josh turned away, unable to look.
Keifer didn't hesitate. His voice was a cold, broken whisper, but it was absolute. "Save Jay-jay. Save my wife. Without her, there is no legacy. There is nothing."
The doctor nodded solemnly and disappeared back behind the double doors. Keifer collapsed into a plastic waiting room chair, burying his face in his blood-stained hands, praying to a God he hadn't spoken to in years.
Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour.
Suddenly, the frantic movement inside the ICU slowed down. The "Code Blue" alarm fell silent. The head surgeon walked out again, but this time, he was wiping sweat from his forehead with a look of pure disbelief.
"It's a miracle, Mr. Watson," the doctor breathed. "Against all medical logic... the bleeding has stopped. Her body is stabilizing on its own."
Keifer stood up so fast his chair flipped over. "And the babies? Keira and Jayden?"
"Their heartbeats have returned to a strong, steady rhythm," the doctor smiled. "The twins are fighters. We've managed to stop the premature labor. Jay-jay needs absolute bed rest, but if she continues to recover like this, we won't have to deliver them today."
"So... they stay inside?" David asked, his eyes wide.
"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "We can wait. We can let them grow for one more month. We'll deliver them in the ninth month, exactly when they're ready."
Keifer was finally allowed into the room. Jay-jay looked fragile, her skin pale against the white sheets, but her eyes were open. When she saw him, she reached out a weak hand.
"They're okay?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"They're okay, Jay," Keifer said, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "You're all okay."
"I heard you," she murmured, a tiny, tired smile playing on her lips. "I heard you choose me."
Keifer leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "I'll always choose you. Always."
Outside the room, the Section E boys were huddled together, some crying, some laughing in relief. They knew the danger wasn't entirely over—the next month would be the most critical of their lives—but for now, the Mutya and her twins were safe.
The miracle had happened. Now, the real wait begins.