The only sound in the room was the steady, slow beep of the heart monitor.

I watched the snow accumulate on the outer ledge of the window, thick and silent.

Then, the door opened, and Dr. Rao stepped inside.

She walked over to the monitors, her eyes scanning the digital readouts.

“Her brain activity is shifting,” Dr. Rao said, adjusting the IV drip. “She is starting to resist the sedation.”

Ethan lifted his head quickly. “Is she waking up?”

“She might,” Dr. Rao said, looking at him seriously. “But you must understand something, Mr. Caldwell.”

Ethan stood up, his hand still resting near Mary’s shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Her heart is extremely weak from the exposure and the stress,” Dr. Rao said. “If she wakes, she cannot be agitated.”

She looked at the expensive suit Ethan wore, then at the worn pink backpack on the chair.

“Any sudden shock, any rise in her blood pressure, could be fatal,” the doctor warned. “She needs absolute peace.”

Ethan looked down at Mary, his face pale with a new kind of fear.

He knew what his presence would do to her.