Chapter 8 - Awakening

On the fourth day, the steady, rhythmic hum of the ICU was broken by a soft, raspy cough.
I bolted up from the armchair where I had been keeping vigil without sleep. Dr. Evans and the head nurse rushed into the room, their penlights flashing, checking the monitors that began to beep with accelerating rhythms.
Chloe’s eyelids flickered. Her long eyelashes fluttered against her bruised, pale cheeks.
"Chloe?" I whispered, grasping her fingers, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would crack my ribs. "Chloe, baby, can you hear me? Mommy is here. I'm right here."
A faint groan escaped her cracked lips. Her fingers weakly squeezed mine. Slowly, painfully, her hazel eyes opened, struggling to focus against the soft ambient light of the room.
"Mom...?" she croaked, her voice barely a thread of air.
"Yes, my love! Yes! Don't move, you're safe. You're in the hospital," I wept, tears flowing freely down my cheeks as I pressed kisses to her uninjured knuckles.
Dr. Evans completed his neuro check, his face breaking into a wide, relieved smile. "Pupils are equal and reactive. Cranial nerves appear intact. It’s an extraordinary recovery, Eleanor."
Chloe blinked, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling as memory rushed back into her consciousness. Her breathing hitched, her monitor spiking with sudden alarm.
"Amanda..." Chloe whispered, terror bleeding into her voice. "Mom... Amanda pushed me. I told her I was sorry for standing there, and she... she smiled at me and shoved me backward. I fell... I hit the rocks..."
"I know, baby. I know," I said, smoothing back her dark hair with a steady, soothing hand. "We know everything. There is video. The police have her. She will never, ever hurt you again."
"Mark?" she asked tentatively, her voice breaking. "Did Mark help me?"
"Mark is gone, Chloe," I said firmly, looking into my daughter’s eyes with complete honesty. "He chose them. And he is going to fall with them. You never have to see any of them for the rest of your life."
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A profound breath of relief escaped my daughter’s chest. Her eyes drifted shut again, but this time, the monitor displayed a calm, steady rhythm. She was no longer in the dark. She was home.
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