Chapter 8 - The Awakening
Three days passed. Three agonizing days of waiting, of sleeping in uncomfortable hospital chairs, of drinking stale coffee and watching the snow fall outside the hospital windows.
On the fourth morning, Ethan was sitting beside Rachel, reading a comic book aloud to her. He stumbled over a complicated word, paused, and sighed.
“You pronounced it right the first time.”
Ethan froze. The voice was raspy, weak, and barely more than a whisper.
He dropped the comic book and looked at the bed. Rachel’s eyes were open, blinking slowly against the harsh hospital light. She turned her head slightly, looking at him.
“Rachel?” Ethan breathed.
She offered a weak, trembling smile. “Hi, buddy.”
Ethan didn't hesitate. He scrambled up onto the edge of the bed and buried his face in her shoulder, wrapping his arms carefully around her neck. Rachel weakly brought her hand up to stroke his hair.
Mark ran into the room moments later, followed by nurses. When he saw his wife awake, holding his son, he collapsed against the doorframe and wept.
“Is the baby…?” Rachel panicked, her eyes wide as she looked at Mark.
“She’s perfect,” Mark choked out, rushing to her side and kissing her forehead. “She’s beautiful, Rachel. And she’s safe. We’re all safe.”
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Rachel looked down at Ethan, who was still clutching her. “You saved my life, Ethan.”
Ethan looked up, wiping his nose. “You saved me first. From the glass.”
