Sophie remained unconscious for another two days, her breathing growing stronger little by little.
Margaret never left her side, sleeping in the uncomfortable hospital chair, holding her daughter’s hand through every long hour.
On the morning of the third day, the first sign of waking came — Sophie’s fingers twitched faintly against her mother’s palm. Margaret’s breath hitched.
Then, slowly, Sophie’s eyelids fluttered open.
“Mum?” her voice was hoarse, weak. “Why are you crying?”
Margaret laughed and sobbed all at once, pressing her forehead to Sophie’s hand. “Because, my love… you came back to me.”
