In the hospital room, Francis and Alan stood on either side of the bed, waiting for Zoey to wake up.
The doctor had said that Zoey’s wounds were full of dirt and sand because she had been dragged across the ground, so the cleaning would be painful, and she had been given anesthesia.
Several hours passed, and as the effects of the anesthesia began to wear off, Zoey’s closed eyes started to move. It seemed like she was about to wake up.
“Zoey?”
Both men leaned in toward the bed, anxiously staring at her.
Zoey’s lips moved, and in a hoarse, weak voice, she muttered a name, “Alan…”
Alan’s eyes brightened, while Francis, as if slapped, suddenly became dark-faced and silent.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” Alan held Zoey’s hand, then glanced at Francis with a victorious look.
Francis said nothin
