Two Weeks After Our Baby Died, My 8-Year-Old Whispered, “Mom, She Isn’t Gone—I Saw What Daddy Did at the Hospital”

I remembered fragments.

Bright lights.

Lucas holding my hand.

Someone telling me the baby’s heart rate had dropped.

An oxygen mask.

Brenda taking Toby away.

Then darkness.

“When Grandma left, I got scared.”