Dr.

Elena Ramirez was standing outside room 412, resting her hand gently on the blue metal bed frame while she looked over a chart on her tablet.

“She’s fully awake, Rebecca,” Dr.

Ramirez said, stepping back from the doorway to let me by.

Grace lay on the raised hospital bed under a light yellow blanket, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

She pulled her gray hooded sweatshirt sleeves down over her thumbs as soon as she saw me come into the room.