My Daughter Died in My Husband's Kindergarten

I returned to the operating room in a daze.

When I saw Hannah again, she couldn't even lift her hands.

She was still so obedient. Tears soaked the pillow without saying a word of discomfort to me.

Her voice was hoarse, and she said to me weakly, "Mom... I'm so tired... I want to sleep.

Mom... Hannah loves you..."

"No, don't sleep, Hannah." I tightly held my daughter's little hand, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face, "Don't you want to see Dad? Dad is on his way, Hannah. Wait a little longer before sleeping, okay?"

"Dad... I..."

Before she could finish, Hannah's hand dropped, and she lost her last breath.

My brain went blank, and my heart felt like it was being violently hammered, the pain spreading throughout my body.

In a daze, I seemed to hear the familiar voice of Baldwin outside the door, "Fortunately, everything is fine. Don't worry too much. Brandon is so strong. He will definitely grow up safe and sound."

My daughter didn't see her father for the last time until the end of her life.

She left this world with eternal regret.

And her father blessed another little boy to grow up safely.

But my daughter would not grow up.