He asks every question at once. I can barely keep track. When he finally gets the answer he needs — alive, stable — his voice cracks open.
"Can I see him?"
"Yes," Dr. Lane says, leading the way. "Please follow me."
I catch up quickly. "Can I come too?"
Mr. Ravenshaw turns to the doctor. "Can she come with me? She's the most important person in my son's life."
Dr. Lane shakes his head gently. "One person at a time. You can see him right after."
I watch them disappear through the doorway. Maeve slides her hand into mine without asking.
"Il est vivant," she whispers. "He is alive."
I collapse against her chest, letting the tears come. Her hands move in slow circles against my back, steady, grounding. I cling to her.
"He has to be okay," I whisper. "Maeve, he has to be."
She tightens her arms. "He is. He's alive."
I lean back, looking up at her. "What if he doesn't wake up?"
"Don't talk like that." Her voice is firm but soft. "He's going to be okay."
I pull back, guilt settling over me. "You should go home and rest. You've been here too long."
Maeve shakes her head, that stubborn grin breaking through. "I am not leaving you here alone."
She disappears for a moment and returns with a warm coffee. I take it with shaky hands, letting the bitterness anchor me.
When Cody's father steps out, I follow the nurse back. My chest trembles as I enter the room.
He looks still. Very still.
I walk over and trace the lines of his face — the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the tiny imperfection on his cheek I've memorized. The touch feels hollow without him looking back at me. Tears fall freely now. But he's alive. I can hear the heartbeat monitor, which proves it.
"I love you," I whisper.
I press my forehead gently to his hand. Cold — but not like death. Just the hospital air. I smile at him through the tears.
"Come back to me, Cody. I need you."
And then I wipe my face and walk out of the room.
He's going to be okay.
The morning light slips through the blinds like it's hesitant to touch the floor. I sit beside Mr. Ravenshaw in Dr. Lane's office. The sweater Maeve brought from my house is soft against my skin, but the warmth doesn't reach the cold that's taken up residence in my chest.
Dr. Lane sits across from us, hands folded over a clipboard, professional composure doing nothing to soften what I already sense is coming.
"I'm afraid Cody isn't waking up as we had hoped," he says carefully. "The signs we're seeing are concerning."
The air turns thick in my lungs. "What… what does that mean?"
Mr. Ravenshaw leans forward, eyes wide. "What does this mean for my son?" His voice breaks on the last word, and it is devastating to hear.
"We need to wait a few more days and monitor his responses. Right now, things aren't progressing as we'd hoped. We're doing everything medically possible, but the situation is serious."
