I sat on the edge of the mattress, rubbing Megan’s shoulder until her breathing became slow and even.

Within ten minutes, she was fast asleep.

The room was completely quiet now, save for the rhythmic hum of the empty monitors.

The silence made the fear come rushing back, colder and heavier than before.

I stood up, my joints cracking in the quiet room.

I stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.

I had to find my daughter.

I walked quickly down the hall, following the signs for the neonatal intensive care unit.

My sneakers made a faint squeaking sound against the polished linoleum.

As I approached the double doors of the secure wing, I noticed a security guard standing near the main desk.

He was leaning against the counter, talking on his phone and looking bored.

I walked up to him, my chest tight. “Excuse me.”

He looked up, lowering his phone. “Yes, sir?”

“Did a woman come through here recently?” I asked. “Silver hair, about five-foot-six, wearing a beige trench coat?”

The guard frowned, rubbing his chin.