She lay on the narrow bed, connected to an almost frightening array of tubes, needles, and drips. Snatches of conversation flitted in and out of her awareness.

"… massive internal injury …"

"… close to death …"

"… no response …"

"… organs will fail if she does not wake soon…"

She wanted to wake up. She tried so hard, but after two days of trying the small sliver of consciousness she was struggling to reach was only moving further and further away. And she was tired, so very tired.

On the fifth day she stopped fighting.

* * *


That voice. His voice.

"Evelyn, it's me, Adam."

Goodbye Adam. I'm sorry, I can't go on.

Something soft and small was slipped into her hand.

"Remember the orange blossom I gave you on our wedding day? We both made promises that day. Fight this Evelyn. Wake up. Come back to me."

I can't fight anymore.

She felt something warm wrap around her fingers. Instinctively, they tightened.

"I know you can hear me, I felt you squeeze my hand. You can defeat this if you try, Evelyn."

No, not this.

"I love you, Evelyn. If you're not strong enough to fight for yourself, then do it for me."

Her eyelids fluttered. Slowly, an image swam into her vision.

"I love you too, Adam." Her voice was feeble and barely a whisper, but it was there.

A weak smile tugged at her lips as she looked down at their joined hands and at the white flower they both held in their grasps.

* * *

"The coma was too deep, she was dying. Full recovery was impossible!" The doctor exclaimed, staring at the peacefully sleeping woman with only a single IV in her arm."

"It is a mystery," the nurse replied. "She hit her head on either the car roof or the windscreen and suffered severe brain haemorrhage and skull fracture, as well as a crushed midsection. Even if she had recovered it should not have been without disabilities. And yet it was."

"The monitors, the scans, what did they show?"

"Just what we saw. Her life signs were dropping, but at approximately 2 a.m. they just started rising again."

"Incredible," the doctor breathed. "Does she suffer from memory loss?"

"None at all. In fact, she says that she remembers her husband visiting her. She told me that he convinced her to keep fighting and that he was the one that woke her from her coma."

"But nurse," a frown knotted the doctor's brow. "Her husband was the driver. He was killed instantly upon impact."

A wistful smile ghosted the nurse's lips. "The human mind is a powerful thing, doctor," she said, turning to gaze at the soft morning light streaming in through the window, "and miracles do happen."

Even as she spoke, a soft breeze grazed the branches of the tall orange tree outside and a single blossom drifted downward to rest on the windowsill.