I Hear You
Hers was not.
Hers was a fully awake woman sealed inside a body that had simply stopped answering.
She could think as clearly as she ever had.
She could reason, remember, calculate, rage.
She could compose entire cross-examinations in her head and have nowhere to deliver them.
It was, she thought in her bleaker hours, a version of the exact nightmare every trial lawyer secretly carries — to know the truth completely, to hold it whole and clear, and to be unable to make a single soul hear it.