The silence in the hospital room was sacred. A quiet that hummed around the beeping machines, a stillness broken only by the gentle whoosh of the ventilator and the ticking of the wall clock. It was evening again, the sky outside already fading to a blanket of navy blue. Another day, another night, and Mike still hadn’t woken up.

Cynthia sat beside him, just as she had for days. Her back ached from the stiff hospital chair, and her eyes burned from hours of holding back tears. She had changed into a fresh cotton dress, pale yellow, soft against her skin. Her belly had begun to show now, small but...