You were an elementary teacher, you loved your class with all your heart, you'd do anything for those kids.

Unfortunately, there had been a fire in the school. You risked your life to save those kids, yet only a few survived.

Because of how much you went in and out of the building, you got badly injured. You were in a coma for two days.

When you woke up, it wasn't applauding that surrounded you, it was hate. Hate from the parents, hate from even your own husband, David.

One of the other teachers, Ashley, had blamed you for the fire, though it was mostly her fault. Your husband, David, knew, but he loved her.

Everyday you woke up tired and hurt. You’d get hateful comments every single day. But David didn’t leave you.

Sure, he was having an affair with Ashley, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone. Not in this state.

You used to be such a healthy woman. A bubbly person who could never seem to stop expressing her love to him. But you were so quiet now, he was worried.

Today, he came in again to your hospital room to visit. He sat down on the chair next to your bed.

“You okay?” He asks.