Speechless

The hospital lights flickered dimly through the wide hallway as Callum sat quietly on the visitor's bench, elbows on his knees, hands clutched together. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, stared at nothing in particular. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, sharp and sterile. Night had fallen hours ago, but he remained rooted there. He hadn't moved much since they wheeled Iris in.

Doctor Maxwell had assured him she was stable. "Just a shock," he had said. "She'll be fine. But she needs rest. We'll keep monitoring her vitals."

Callum simply nodded. "Please call me when she wakes up. Any hour. Doesn't matter."

Boston placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Let's go home for now, sir. You haven't slept. You've barely eaten. She's in good hands."

With hesitation, Callum finally agreed. Boston escorted him back to the estate the next morning. The drive was quiet. The world outside the tinted windows moved like a blur, trees, buildings, people, all meaningless. Callum stared out, lost in thought.

As the estate gates swung open, Callum felt a strange tightness in his chest. Home didn't feel the same. As they entered, he saw Lola standing in the main hallway, tears in her eyes, arms folded like a child left out in the cold.

The moment she saw him, her lips trembled. "You left me, Callum!" she cried out, stepping toward him. "You left me here to oversee your entire enterprise while you disappeared! I called and called... and you didn't answer."

Callum blinked, but said nothing.

"I had meetings to attend alone, decisions to make alone! You said it was a business trip, but you left the rest of the business behind. Do you know how hard it's been?"

Her voice cracked. She was shaking. "You break me, Callum. I'm tired. Maybe I'm not just tired because of the job. Maybe... maybe it's because I'm loving you. I'm loving you, and it's killing me."

Silence filled the space between them. The ticking of the wall clock seemed louder than ever. Callum finally stepped forward. His voice was low, worn.

"Lola... I'm sorry. You've been incredible. I know I've put too much on you lately. Everything's been a mess. But I promise... it's coming to an end. I'll be steady soon."

She looked at him, eyes glistening with tears.

Callum took her hand gently. "You've done more than I deserve. And I respect everything you've done for me. Everything."

She nodded, lips trembling, her fingers squeezing his as if afraid to let go. But just as he turned to walk away, her voice broke the silence again, soft, shaking.

"I love you." Callum stopped. His back was still turned to her. For a moment, the room froze.

Then he turned slowly. His eyes met hers. "Liora is alive."

The words hit like a thunderclap. Lola staggered backward.

"What?" she whispered.

"She's alive, Lola. I saw her."

"Oh my God," she murmured. Her breathing quickened. "Callum, this obsession is destroying you. She died fifteen years ago. Shot dead. Everyone knows that. We all do."

"Then tell me," Callum said, stepping closer, his voice trembling. "Where was she buried? Why did her body vanish from the morgue? You were there. You remember."

Lola's face turned pale.

"I met her, Lola. I looked her in the eye. Boston saw her too. She is alive."

Lola shook her head slowly, her lips parting in disbelief. She stumbled backward and dropped into the couch. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone.

She dialed Boston.

"Boston," she said, voice thin and cracked, "Callum said you saw Liora. Is this real?"

Boston chuckled softly on the other end. "Yeah. It's real. Strange, but real. She's in a hospital in Daxta. We'll be visiting again."

Lola ended the call with a weak hand. Her mind was spinning. She wanted to scream, cry, throw something, but all she did was sit still, her soul slowly folding inwards. If Liora was truly alive, then her feelings... everything she hoped for... was meaningless.

She sat there, staring into space, breathing shallow.

Fifteen years? How? Why? Was Callum dreaming? Or was this fate playing with them all?

Five hours passed in a heavy fog. The sky had turned orange, the light fading. Callum sat by the window, eyes glued to the fading sun.

Then his phone buzzed.

He snatched it quickly.

"This is Doctor Maxwell. Iris Bloom is awake, though still in a drowsy state. You can start coming."

Callum stood up at once.

Lola watched him grab his coat. She could sense what was happening.

"You're going again," she said. It wasn't a question.

Callum nodded. "Iris is awake. I have to go."

"Please," she said suddenly, stepping forward, her voice desperate, "Let me come with you this time. I want to see her. I need to."

He paused.

Their eyes met.

Then he gave a slow nod. "Alright. Get ready. We're going to meet Liora."

Lola's knees nearly gave way. Her heart pounded in her chest. She turned to climb the stairs to prepare, but her hands shook as she held onto the rail.

The ride to Daxta was quiet again. Lola kept glancing sideways at Callum. His jaw was clenched, his eyes staring ahead with purpose.

When they reached the hospital, the air was thick with expectation. The same hallway. The same smell. But now, something was different.

Doctor Maxwell greeted them at the entrance. "She's conscious. Still hazy. You may come in... one at a time."

Callum turned to Lola.

"You first," he said.

Lola stared at him, unsure whether to step forward or run away. Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she walked slowly into the room.

Iris lay on the bed, IV drip attached, her eyes half-open. Her skin was pale, but soft. Familiar. Hauntingly familiar.

Lola took a step closer.

Iris turned her head slightly, her gaze dull but aware.

Their eyes met.

Lola stopped breathing.

Iris blinked slowly.

Then, with a voice no louder than a whisper, she said, "Lola..." Lola's knees buckled.

The room spun.

And all she could do was stare into the face of a ghost….A ghost who just spoke her name.