Nour, a mother, quietly leans over the cribs of her newborn triplets, just a month old, whispering dreams only her tired heart can see. Her husband, suffering from a detached retina, returns home from work, his eyes filled with worry, staring at a future they cannot afford. Meanwhile, their milk supply is running dangerously low. The tiny bodies cry out from a weakness no child should know, while a mother’s tear clings to the hope of a miracle that might brighten their dark days. Every bit of support is life poured into small, hungry bellies.