We get to see Emily and sit with her for about an hour. Tubes hang out of her nose and mouth, her arms covered in different lines. The room smells heavily of antiseptic, and I can even smell the infection running through her veins, and smell the antibiotic drips hooked up to her. Emily did not deserve this; nobody did.
Looking down at her, she looks so frail, her skin pale, and I find it hard not to break down. Emily was always so bubbling, a real chatterbox. Seeing her like this is heartbreaking. I pray she wakes up soon, pray she will pull through this. I would even drink her terrible coffee. God, I wish I could be drinking that horrible coffee. I wouldn't even complain if it meant she would come back to us.
We weren't sure if she could hear us, but eventually, Zoe has to leave to help
