“You’re stronger than this. You always have been. I read your file. I know how strong you are.”
The monitor dips again.
Lower.
Lower—
“Come on!” I snap, my hand gripping the edge of the bed so hard it hurts. “You don’t leave me like this!”
Silence—
Then—
A spike.
Sharp.
Sudden.
The room freezes for half a second.
Then the machines stabilize.
Not perfect.
But better.
“Hold it,” one of the nurses says quickly. “She’s responding—just hold it—”
My breath rushes out all at once.
I don’t even realize I’ve been holding it.
“She’s stabilizing,” another says.
The words don’t fully register.
Not right away.
All I see—
All I feel—
Is that she’s still here.
Still fighting.
Still not gone.
I close my eyes for one second.
Just one.
Then open them again.
Because I’m not looking away.
Not now.
