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Saturday A knock on the door made me look up. Everyone had just been coming and going. No one ever knocked. Porter slowly put his head in. "Can I come in?" I nodded. He closed the door behind him and walked over to the opposite side of the bed that I was on. His eyes locked on the monitor that was showing James' pulse. There had been no change. The doctor said that each day that passed, the likelihood of him waking up again went down. It had been a week. I didn't know what that meant for the likelihood now. A fifty percent chance was bad enough. And I didn't have the courage to ask. I tightened my grip on James' hand. Wake up. You have to wake up. "Cole." I looked up at Porter. "What?" "My first name is Cole." He gave me a weak smile. "Cole Porter? Like the composer?" "Yeah." He
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