Higgins had told me she might surface in an hour, or she might not surface today at all.

The machine stopped its rhythm.

Her chest rose on its own, shallow and even, and the room got louder by getting quieter.

I pulled the vinyl chair close and put my hand flat on the mattress beside her fingers.

Her eyes opened before her mouth did.

They moved past the ceiling, past the IV stand, and found me.

“Alex.”

There was no air behind the word.