“Adri.” Her voice shakes. “It's Dad. The hospital just called. He's waking up.”
The world tilts when I hear that. I grab the edge of the counter to steady myself.
“What? Are you sure?”
“Mom's already on her way there. I'm leaving now. Can you meet us?”
“Yes. Of course, I'm coming. I'm leaving right now.” I hang up and turn to Lochlan, my hands trembling, tears stinging my eyes. “It’s my dad. He's waking up from the coma.”
Lochlan's eyes widen. “Holy shit. Let's go.”
The drive to the hospital is a blur of frenzied thoughts.
Lochlan swerves around cars, weaving through traffic while I sit in the passenger seat, twisting my grandmother's ring around and around my finger as questions pepper my mind.
What if it's a false alarm? What if he woke up but slipped back under? What if he doesn't recognize me? What if the damage from the bullet near his spine is worse than they thought?
What if I finally get to talk to my father and he's not really there anymore?
That last one chills me bone-deep.
“Hey.” Lochlan reaches over and takes my hand, his touch a soothing balm to my panic. “Breathe. Whatever happens, I'm right here.”
I nod and squeeze his fingers, holding on like he's the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.
We make it to the hospital in record time. I practically sprint through the lobby toward the elevator bank, Lochlan rightbeside me. The elevator takes forever to reach the ICU floor, and I'm about to scream when the doors finally slide open.
Luna rushes toward me and throws her arms around my neck when we get off the elevator.
“He opened his eyes,” she says against my ear. “Just for a few seconds, but he opened them. He's really coming back, Adri.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blink them away and pull back to look at her. “Where's Mom?”
“Inside with Vincenzo. The doctors are with him now. They said we can go in one at a time, but we have to be quiet and calm. No overwhelming him with too much stimulation,” she says.
I nod, trying to process everything she's saying. Vincenzo is already here. Of course he is. He's been by my father's side through all of this, supporting my mother, supporting me. I don't know what we would have done without him these past few weeks.
Lochlan puts a hand on my shoulder. “Go inside,” he says, nodding toward the double doors that lead to the patient rooms. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I put my hand over his and smile. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Luna and I head into the ICU. She stays back by the reception desk while I head toward my father’s room. We stop outside just as Dr. Reeves, one of the doctors who has been part of my dad’s care team, steps out into the hallway.
“Ms. DiMicheli?” She smiles, extends her hand, and I shake it, noting how steady her grip is compared to my cold and trembling fingers. “It’s nice to see you. Seems like we have a lot to discuss.”
“Yes,” I say. “How is he? Luna said he opened his eyes. That’s good, right?”
“He did. He's showing signs of emerging from the coma, which is very encouraging.” She pauses, and my heart drops in my chest because I feel like that’s only a small part of the story. I hold my breath, waiting for her to continue.
“But I want to prepare you. This isn't like what you see in movies. He won't suddenly sit up and start talking. He still has the tracheostomy tube, so verbal communication isn't possible right now. His responses may be minimal. A blink, a slight movement of his fingers. He may recognize you, or he may not. His brain is essentially rebooting after being shut down for weeks, and that's a slow process.”
And there it is. Our new reality, brimming with uncertainty. My throat tightens. “But he will recover? Eventually?”
“It's too early to make any definitive predictions. The fact that he's coming out of the coma is a positive sign, but there's a long road ahead. Physical therapy. Cognitive assessments. Possibly speech therapy once the trach tube is removed. “She puts a gentle hand on my arm. “Take it one day at a time. Today is a good day. Focus on that.”
I nod because I don't trust my voice not to crack with a sob.
“You can go in and see him now, but keep the visit brief. He tires easily, and too much stimulation could set back his progress.”
