“Is she alright?” I asked, walking quickly out of the study.

“She is regaining consciousness, but her vitals are unstable,” the doctor replied.

“I am on my way,” I said.

I ran down the long hallway, my flashlight beam bouncing off the dark walls.

I didn’t bother locking the front door behind me as I rushed out into the cold night air.

The drive back to St. Mary’s Medical Center was a blur of streetlights and rain.

I parked the car in the emergency lot and ran through the sliding glass doors.

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and floor wax.

I took the elevator to the third floor and walked quickly toward the intensive care unit.

Dr. Shah was waiting outside Claire’s room, looking down at a clipboard.

He looked up as my boots squeaked on the linoleum.

“How is she?” I asked, catching my breath.

“She is awake, but very weak,” Dr. Shah said, lowering his voice.

“Can I see her?” I asked.

“Only for a moment,” he said, nodding toward the door. “She has been calling out for the boys.”