He seems to register the shock in my expression, and his voice softens slightly.
“We’ll need to run some follow-up scans, neurological assessments, motor response tests, just to be sure there’s no lasting damage. But from what I’ve seen so far, I’d say you’ve been extremely fortunate. If you believe in guardian angels, I’d say yours earned their pay this week.”
He offers a small, almost apologetic smile. I try to return it, but my mind is already spiralling.
There’s only one thing I care about right now, one question Ihaveto ask.
“Doctor… I’m a pianist. Music is my life. If there’s anything,anything, wrong with my hands or coordination… I need to know now.”
The words barely make it out. I’m almost too afraid to hear the answer.
But he doesn’t hesitate.
“From everything I’ve seen so far, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Your motor responses are intact, and there’s no indication of neurological impairment. We’ll confirm that with scans, of course, but right now, I’d say you’ll be absolutely fine. A few bruises. Some dizziness, maybe headaches, for a few days. But you’ll heal.”
I close my eyes for a moment, and the relief hits me so hard it’s almost overwhelming.
I can still play.
I exhale shakily, eyes brimming with tears at the thought of what I might’ve lost… and how close I came.
Then Dr Warren’s voice shifts, softer, but more serious.
“There’s one more thing, Sebastian,” he says gently. “You don’t have to decide anything now, but you should start thinking about what you’d like to say to the police. Now that you’re awake, they may want to speak with you soon.”
“The police?” I blink, confused. “Why would they want to talk to me?”
He hesitates, then continues with careful precision.
“Your boyfriend, the one who called the ambulance, who quite possibly saved your life, told us you were pushed down the stairs by a third party.”
My heart drops.Maddie.
The memories return like splinters, shards of shouting, a flash of rage, the feel of her hand on my arm. The sickening sense of falling.
But no. She wouldn’t have meant to hurt me. Would she?
“We asked him whether he wanted to press charges,” the doctor adds. “He said he was inclined to, but that he’d wait until you were conscious. That the decision should be yours.”
I nod, overwhelmed by a rush of gratitude that Remi,even now, chose to respect my autonomy.
“Alright, Doctor. I understand. I just… I need time to think.”
Dr Warren pauses at the door, then turns back with a seriousness that makes my chest tighten.
“If I may, Sebastian,” he says gently, “you shouldn’t let this person get away with what they’ve done. You were incredibly lucky. When I mentioned guardian angels, I wasn’t being poetic. I’ve seen very few people wake up from a head trauma like yours without lasting damage…”
His words hit harder than I expected, but he doesn’t linger. He gathers his things and moves toward the door.
“Try to rest,” he adds. “There are a lot of people eager to see you, you can have visitors, but take it slow. And… one last thing.”
He hesitates, then gives me a look somewhere between stern and fond.
“If you can convince your boyfriend to go home for a few hours, I’d appreciate it. He’s been glued to that chair for three days, hasn’t eaten, and hasn’t slept. I’d rather not end up admittinghim,too.”
I stare at the doctor, stunned. He just shakes his head, offering a weary but fond smile.
“That boy hasn’t left your side since the moment you came in with the ambulance. We tried everything to get him to rest, but he wouldn’t budge. If he weren’t Emma’s son, I might’ve had security throw him out just for his own good. But I didn’t have the heart.”
