He entered the ICU behind the team. The room was filled with the sounds of machines. Isabella lay pale, bandages peeking out from under the sheet, assisted breathing marking a steady rhythm. Roman took her hand very carefully, as if her skin might break.

"Baby..." he whispered. "I'm here."

A technician arrived with the machine, followed by a radiologist with a calm voice and gentle hands.

"We're going to do an obstetric ultrasound," she explained. "It's quick. If at any time you'd rather leave, let me know."

Roman shook his head. He wasn't going to leave that room, even if the building collapsed.

The radiologist applied cold gel to Isabella's belly and placed the transducer on it. Román couldn't see anything and became alarmed. "Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Everything's fine, but the baby is still very small, so I'll do a TV ultrasound so I can evaluate it."

At first, the screen was a storm of grays. Then, order: a dark oval, a whitish shape, a tiny flicker within the sha