With his eyes shut, he looked remarkably like Jarrod.

Nicole stepped closer, seizing these quiet moments to gaze at and gently touch Austin.

Austin's lips, affected by his heart condition, lacked the rosy tint common among children his age, displaying a slight purple color instead.

Nicole experienced a whirlwind of feelings, discomfort, sadness, and something indescribable.

She reached out her hand, hesitating, pulling back, then reaching out again.

Suddenly, as if aware of her presence, Austin's small hand caught one of Nicole's fingers tightly, just like he had done the moment he was born. His lips quivered slightly as he whispered, “Mommy..."

At that moment, Nicole felt overwhelmed, as if lightning had struck her, her heart aching intensely. Tears she had been holding back began to fall onto her arm. She tried to steady her breathing, softly telling herself, "I'm sorry... Sorry, sweetheart. Mommy has made a lot of mistakes..."

When Roscoe walked in, he saw Nicole asleep next to Austin, curled up in a ball.

Austin's tiny hand was still clutching Nicole's finger. Her eyelashes were damp, a sight that made Roscoe's heart flutter.

He realized Nicole wasn't as cold as she seemed. Her soft side came out when she was by herself. She was dealing with more pain and exhaustion than anyone knew.

Not wanting to disturb her sleep, Roscoe gently covered her with a light blanket and made sure Austin was comfortable before his departure.

Stepping out of the room, Roscoe noticed Nicole's phone quietly buzzing on the table. An unknown number kept calling.

Raising an eyebrow, Roscoe had a pretty good guess about who it could be.

As soon as Roscoe picked up the phone, a man's frantic voice hit him.

"Nicole, get out here right now. I'm telling you..."

"She's sleeping," Roscoe cut in.

There was a pause on the other end, then the sound of the man breathing heavily.

"I need Nicole to pick up the phone!" Jarrod spat the words out, teeth clenched.

Roscoe kept his tone light. “Don't you get it? She's sleeping. But if you've got a message, I'm here to pass it along."

The sound of Jarrod's teeth grinding filtered through the phone. “And who might you be? Who the hell are you?"