Meera lay motionless as always. Her eyes were closed, her face pale and slack around the breathing tube taped to her mouth. She looked exactly as she had for three years, two months, and sixteen days. But her hand had moved. I was sure of it.<\/p>\n
I pressed the call button, jamming my thumb into the red plastic until it hurt.<\/p>\n
A nurse arrived within ninety seconds. It was\u00a0Derek, the young guy with the kind eyes who usually worked the graveyard shift. He looked tired, his scrubs slightly wrinkled.<\/p>\n
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\u201cMr. Castiano?\u201d he asked, stepping into the room. \u201cIs everything okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe moved,\u201d I said, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. \u201cShe squeezed my hand. In Morse code.\u201d<\/p>\n
Derek gave me that look\u2014the sympathetic, weary look that said he\u2019d heard this a hundred times before from desperate family members seeing ghosts in the machinery.<\/p>\n
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\u201cMr. Castiano,\u201d he said gently, moving to check the monitors. \u201cSometimes our minds play tricks on us when we\u2019re tired. Muscle spasms are very common in long-term coma patients. It doesn\u2019t mean conscious movement.\u201d<\/p>\n
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