At the private hospital room where Gary has been moved, the soft hum of ECG machines fills the space,, monitoring his condition, slightly more than his mother is.
He's still unconscious, lying motionless in the bed, but everything looks peaceful, there are no convulsions or any medical issues, he is just lying there. It's been days since the accident, and despite the lack of significant movement, Gary's mother sits faithfully by his side, her fingers gripping his hand as she waits for any sign of improvement.
They have been assuring and reassuring her every single day that he is fine and will wake up soon but there has been no visible response, at least to her.
On Eric's orders, Gary was transferred to this private room to ensure the best possible care. It's a quiet corner of the hospital, free from the noise and chaos of the busy wards, and the doctors make their rounds with extra attention.
It is practically the VVIP area of the hospital.