The private wing of Mercy General was quieter at night, with only the soft hum of machines and the gentle footsteps of night-shift nurses. Luna and Grayson hurried down the familiar hallway, still in their formal attire from the gala. Luna's heels clicked against the polished floor, a sound that seemed too loud in the peaceful space.
Dr. Martinez met them outside Elise's room, his expression cautiously optimistic.
"She's been drifting in and out of consciousness," he explained in a low voice. "But when she's awake, she's remarkably lucid for someone who's been in a coma for fifteen years. Her first word was 'Luna,' and she's repeated it several times since."
Luna's hands shook as she smoothed down her evening dress. She felt overdressed and unprepared for this moment she'd dreamed about
