We never questioned it for a moment. In room 117, his first cries filled the air. Against every prediction, he breathed on his own. He wasn’t “perfect” by definition—but to us, he was. Perfectly imperfect. Alive. Strong. Our fighter.
(Link Below)
We never questioned it for a moment. In room 117, his first cries filled the air. Against every prediction, he breathed on his own. He wasn’t “perfect” by definition—but to us, he was. Perfectly imperfect. Alive. Strong. Our fighter.
(Link Below)