Chapter 14
724 Words
Late morning sunlight warmed the hallway by the time Dr. Rowe arrived. Marcus didn’t hear him come in at first—only noticed when the soft sound of a coat sleeve brushing fabric broke the quiet.
He looked up.
A man stood just inside the doorway—tall, composed, wearing a charcoal-grey coat that looked a bit worn at the edges, as though he’d owned it for years. His dark hair held a streak of premature silver near his temple, and his eyes, sharp and assessing, flickered from Marcus to Evelyn.
“Mr. Marcus?” His voice was low, steady.
Marcus stood. “Yes. You’re… Dr. Rowe?”
“I am.” He stepped forward, not hurried, but with purpose. “I was informed of an anomaly with the patient’s readings.”
He didn’t introduce himself further, didn’t offer small talk. He simply moved to Evelyn’s bedside and began studying the monitors.
For a moment, the room felt heavier—as though something unseen had shifted when he entered.
The next seconds were silent except for the machines.
Rowe’s gaze sharpened. “This pattern…”
The nurse approached timidly. “Is it something you’ve seen before?”
“Not often,” he replied. “But once or twice, in theory.”
Marcus frowned. “What does that mean?”
Dr. Rowe didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved closer, examining Evelyn herself. He checked her pulse manually—even though the machines already monitored it—then lightly touched the side of her wrist, noting the warmth of her skin.
“She’s stable,” he murmured. “Very stable. More stable than a patient in her condition should be.”
Marcus stepped closer. “Is that good or bad?”
Rowe gave him a brief look. “That is what I’m here to find out.”
He looked back at the monitor, eyes narrowing at the repeating waves of synchronized activity.
He leaned closer. “Fascinating…”
Dr. Harren, who had stepped in quietly, cleared his throat. “Dr. Rowe, do you have a hypothesis?”
Rowe straightened slowly. “Not one I can comfortably state yet.”
He tapped the display with the back of his pen. “But her brain is doing something I’ve only seen referenced in a handful of research papers. Something that implies her consciousness isn’t… here.”
Marcus felt his stomach drop. “What does that mean? She’s right there.”
“Her body is,” Rowe corrected gently.
“But her mind…” He hesitated, as though choosing words carefully. “…is somewhere very active.”
The nurse exchanged a nervous glance with Dr. Harren.
Rowe continued, “I need to run an observational test. Something outside standard procedure.”
“What kind of test?” Marcus asked.
“One that will tell me whether her mind is experiencing a conventional dream state…” His eyes moved back to the rhythmic, impossible waves. “…or something else.”
He didn’t elaborate—didn’t need to. The tension in the room thickened.
Rowe turned to Harren. “Prepare the auxiliary observation room. I need access to her readings without interference.” Then, quieter, “And I will need the environmental logs for the night she arrived. If there were any irregular spikes in temperature or electrical fluctuations, I want them.”
Harren blinked. “Why would that matter?”
Rowe offered a thin, unreadable smile. “Because it might tell us how she got here.”
He started toward the door, coat brushing lightly behind him.
“Doctor,” Marcus called out, voice tense. “Will she wake up?”
Rowe paused, his hand resting on the doorframe. He didn’t turn fully, but his profile was visible in the thin line of sunlight cutting across the room.
“I don’t know yet,” he admitted quietly. “But whatever she’s experiencing right now… it’s not ordinary.”
His eyes flicked to Evelyn one last time—an intense, calculating look that suggested he saw something others couldn’t.
Then he stepped into the hall.
“Begin preparations,” he said to the staff. “There’s more happening here than a simple coma.”
And with that, the door eased shut behind him, leaving Marcus standing alone beside Evelyn’s still form, the machine’s steady beeping suddenly sounding far too loud.
- Writer
