The instant her hand made contact, a strange chill ran right up her spine, a sensation she couldn’t begin to explain. It felt… as if he could feel her presence. As if, somewhere in the deep, hidden depths of his unconsciousness, he knew she was there.
A soft, steady beep from the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the silence, rhythmic and constant. Anna physically shook off the odd feeling and returned to her duties. She worked carefully, wiping his arms, his chest, making sure his body remained clean and well-cared for. “I guess you don’t get much of a say in this, huh?” she murmured, speaking more to herself than to him.
Silence. “Right. I’ll take that as a no, then.” A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips in spite of herself.
The days blurred into a steady routine. Every morning and every evening, Anna would be there. She’d bathe him, change his linens, and meticulously monitor his vitals. But before long, it stopped being just about medical care.
She found herself talking to him. Really talking. She’d tell him stories about her day, describing the world that was moving on just outside his window. “You should see the food in the cafeteria, Grant,” she’d say while changing his IV. “It’s genuinely tragic.”
“Even with all your money, I doubt you’d survive it.” Silence. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering to talk to you.”
“Maybe I just really like the sound of my own voice.” Silence. More silence.
“Or maybe… maybe you’re actually listening.” The heart monitor beeped steadily, almost as if it were answering her. And maybe, just maybe, he was.
Anna hummed a soft tune under her breath as she dipped a fresh washcloth into the basin of warm water. The sterile quiet of Grant’s private suite had become familiar over the past few weeks. That steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, the faint whir of the IV drip… it had all just become part of the background noise of her life.
She leaned over the bed, carefully wiping his face. Her fingers were gentle but maintained a professional precision. “You know,” she said, her voice light, “I read somewhere that people in comas can still hear things.”
“So, technically, that makes you the absolute worst listener I’ve ever met.” There was no response, naturally. She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head.
“It’s okay. I’m pretty used to talking to myself by now.” She moved the cloth to clean the strong curve of his jaw when—a flicker of movement. Her breath caught in her throat.
Had she just imagined it? She froze, her eyes darting down to his hand. Nothing. His fingers lay perfectly motionless against the crisp white sheets.
Anna let out a small, nervous laugh, shaking her head again. “Great. Now I’m hallucinating. Maybe I’m the one who needs a hospital bed in this place.”
But the feeling of unease lingered. Then, over the next few days, it happened again. The second time, she was just adjusting his pillow.
She wasn’t even looking at his hand when she felt it. Just the faintest, briefest pressure against her wrist. Her head snapped down to look.
Grant’s hand had definitely shifted. It was only by a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to make her stomach do a complete flip. “Grant?” she whispered, hardly realizing she’d spoken his name aloud.
Silence. Just the same rhythmic beep… beep… beep… from the monitor. She cautiously placed her own hand over his, feeling his warmth, his stillness, waiting for any… potential movement.
Nothing. Was she just losing her mind? Or was something finally changing? Anna couldn’t shake the feeling. She had to report it to Dr. Harris. “He moved?” The doctor arched a highly skeptical brow.
“I think so,” Anna admitted, feeling a little foolish. “At first I thought I just imagined it, but… it keeps happening. His fingers twitch. His hand shifts, just slightly. It’s small, but I know it’s there.”
Dr. Harris leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers as he fell deep into thought. “We’ll run a new series of tests,” he said finally. “But don’t get your hopes up too high, Anna. It could easily just be reflexive muscle spasms.”
Anna nodded, but deep down, she didn’t believe that for a second. She felt something was happening. And when the test results came back a day later, she wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“There’s notable increased brain activity,” Dr. Harris told her, his own voice a little less skeptical. “His neurological responses are significantly stronger than they were before.” Her heart gave a powerful leap…
