Chapter 12 - Quiet Currents
619 Words
The car ride back to Brooklyn was a blur.
Amelia sat beside the window, the sketchpad resting on her lap unopened. Her fingers idly traced the corner of the cover, but her thoughts were miles away — still tethered to the quiet hum of the medical wing, to the gentle rhythm of Gray’s heart monitor, and to the strange comfort she felt sitting beside him.
She had never expected to stay so long. And yet, walking away had felt… wrong. As if she were leaving behind a part of herself.
Jessica opened the front door before Amelia could reach for her keys.
“Well?” she asked, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “You said you’d be home by dinner. It’s past eight.”
“I know,” Amelia said quietly. She stepped inside and leaned against the door. “I lost track of time.”
Jessica softened as she studied Amelia’s face. “You okay?”
“I don’t know,” Amelia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think so.”
She moved to the couch and sank into it, staring down at her hands. “Jess… it didn’t feel like a hospital. It felt like… a home. Like everyone in that room was tied to him in ways I can’t explain. They all looked at me like I’d just stepped into something sacred.”
Jessica sat beside her. “And how did you feel?”
“Out of place. But also… like maybe I wasn’t.” She paused, trying to find the words. “He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. But I swear, it felt like he was listening. Like something was there.”
Jessica didn’t respond right away. She simply reached over and placed a hand over Amelia’s.
“And I asked if I could go back tomorrow,” Amelia added.
Jessica blinked. “You did?”
Amelia nodded slowly. “It just… felt right. I even told them about the art center. I asked if I can come over after, and Isabel… she asked if she can come.”
That drew a genuine reaction — Jessica’s eyes widened. “Wait. The lady you met with this morning? She wants to hang out with glue sticks and finger paint?”
Amelia smiled faintly. “Apparently.”
Jessica let out a low whistle. “Well, I officially don’t know what this is anymore. But if you’re going back, you better get some rest.”
Amelia nodded and stood. “Yeah.”
As she moved to her room, sketchpad still in hand, she paused by her door. She looked back at Jessica and said softly, “It’s like I’m walking into something bigger than me.”
Jessica gave her a small smile. “Maybe you are.”
⸻
Meanwhile, back at the Arison Medical Wing…
The room had quieted again. The family had stepped out one by one, leaving only Zach, still seated by the window, and Dr. Levin, who stood reviewing the latest monitor readouts.
“He felt her,” Zach said suddenly.
Dr. Levin looked up.
“That spike — it wasn’t random,” Zach continued. “He knew she was leaving.”
Levin didn’t disagree. “There’s no definitive proof. But we’ve seen cases where familiarity, emotion… presence, can stir activity.”
Zach leaned back in the chair. “Then we do everything we can to keep her around.”
“Carefully,” Dr. Levin reminded him. “She still doesn’t know.”
Zach nodded once, eyes drifting to Gray’s face. “Yeah. But he does.”
And in that room, filled with quiet machines and unsaid truths, hope pulsed just beneath the surface — steady and stubborn — refusing to fade.
- Writer
