Chapter 7 - The Miracle in the Glass Box
Forty-eight hours later.
The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Bryn Mawr Hospital was dim and quiet, soft electronic chimes from monitoring devices filling the warm air.
Harrison stood near a small glass incubator in the corner of the room.
Inside the clear box lay a tiny, three-pound baby girl, covered in delicate tubes and wires. Her small chest rose and fell rhythmically with the assistance of a miniature ventilator. Her skin was pink, her tiny fingers wrapped tightly around a piece of sterile cotton gauze.
Harrison had taken off his suit jacket, wearing only his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
He slowly reached his massive hand through the circular rubber port of the incubator.
His index finger was larger than the baby’s entire arm.
Gently, with an incredible lightness of touch, Harrison rested the tip of his finger against the baby’s tiny palm.
The baby’s fingers instantly curled around his finger, holding on with a surprisingly firm, desperate grip.
A soft, genuine smile broke across Harrison’s face, tears filling his eyes as he looked down at his niece.
"You're a fighter, aren't you?" Harrison whispered softly, his voice full of a deep, tender love no courtroom had ever seen. "Just like your mom."
"She gets that from her uncle, too," a weak, raspy voice called from the doorway.
Harrison turned quickly.
Khloe was sitting in a wheelchair, pushed slowly into the room by a senior nurse. She was wearing a soft yellow hospital gown, a pale blanket draped over her lap. Her face was still bruised, her skin pale, but her eyes were clear, bright, and focused entirely on the incubator.
"Khloe!" Harrison breathed, rushing over and dropping to one knee beside her wheelchair, gently holding her shoulder. "What are you doing out of bed? The doctor said you needed complete rest!"
"I needed to see my daughter, Harry," Khloe whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at the glass box. "I couldn't stay in that room another second."
The nurse wheeled Khloe closer to the incubator.
Khloe reached through the opposite port, her hand gently touching her baby’s small, soft foot. A tear spilled over her cheek, falling onto the glass.
"She’s so small, Harry," Khloe sobbed softly. "She was supposed to have another month..."
"She’s strong, Khloe," Harrison assured her softly, standing beside her, resting his hand on the back of her wheelchair. "The doctors said her vitals are stabilizing. She’s going to make it."
Khloe wiped her eyes, looking up at her brother.
"What happened, Harry?" she asked quietly. "While I was asleep... what happened to Richard and Vanessa?"
Harrison took a deep breath, kneeling beside her again so they were eye to eye.
"Vanessa is in county jail, held without bail," Harrison revealed quietly. "She’s facing attempted murder charges. Her trial begins in two months. She isn't getting out, Khloe."
Khloe closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. "And Richard?"
"Harrington Commercial Group has collapsed," Harrison said. "He’s been removed from the board, his assets are frozen by the federal government, and he was formally indicted on fourteen counts of financial fraud this morning. He’s currently in federal custody awaiting trial."
Khloe looked at her brother, seeing the weariness behind his sharp eyes, realizing the monumental war he had fought while she was unconscious.
"You destroyed them," Khloe whispered.
"They destroyed themselves," Harrison corrected gently. "I just made sure they couldn't run away from the wreckage."
Khloe reached out, taking Harrison’s broad, hand, pressing it against her cheek. "Thank you, Harry. For saving me. For saving her."
Harrison smiled, kissing her forehead. "You don't ever have to thank me, little sister. Family takes care of family."
Khloe turned back to the incubator, looking at her tiny daughter, who was still holding tightly to Harrison’s finger.
"Have you thought of a name for her?" Harrison asked softly.
Khloe smiled through her tears, looking from her baby to her brother.
"Hope," Khloe said softly. "Hope Harrison Cole."
May you like
Harrison felt his throat tighten with deep emotion, a tear slipping down his cheek as he looked at the little girl inside the glass box.
"Hope," Harrison repeated softly. "It’s perfect."
