The words on the screen still echoed in my head long after I closed my phone.
It was morning now, but the hospital room was dim, as if the daylight itself hesitated to enter.
My father’s machines beeped steadily beside me, the only proof that something in my world was still consistent.
I barely noticed the nurse coming in until she whispered, “He’s stirring.”
I turned sharply.
Dad’s eyelids fluttered, his hand twitching slightly on the blanket. For a moment, I froze… afraid that even breathing too loud would pull him away again.
“Dad?” My voice trembled. “It’s me. Jane.”
His eyes opened just enough for me to see a flicker of recognition, faint, tired, but real.
“Jane…” His voice was raspy, every word an effort. “You… you have to listen.”
Tears pricked my eyes instantly. I gripped
