The Confrontation. Lila pov

I was getting stronger now, though the doctor had advised me to rest a little longer. But I wasn't the type to stay still when my heart was heavy with unfinished business. I insisted on getting discharged and going home.

First, I had work to do. Second, I needed to see my grandfather—it had been an eternity since I last did. And with Fiona in a vegetative state, there was no one to take care of him.

Before leaving the hospital, I went to Fiona's room. The monitors still recorded traces of life, though she lay as still as death itself. The dim, sterile light cast a ghostly glow over her pale face, and the rhythmic beeping of the machines filled the otherwise silent room.

I sat beside her and reached for her hand. It was cold, but not lifeless. My fingers curled around hers as if holding on tightly would somehow transfer my will to her, would somehow bring her back.