Eight months. That was how long she had been lying in this hospital bed, motionless, breathing only because of the machines keeping her alive. When she first arrived, the entire ER was buzzing about her case. A brutal car crash, a miracle she even survived the impact. But the moment they saw the state she was in, most of them had given up hope.

Not me, though. Not completely.

I was only a resident, but I was there when she was first wheeled in. I read her file, checked on her everyday, just to see if anything changed. And yet, when her fingers twitched for the first time, I almost thought I imagined it. When her eyelids fluttered open, I froze.

“Doctor Norris,” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Dr. Harrison, my senior, standing in the doorway. “She’s awake. And you’re going to be the one to treat her.”

I blinked. “Me?”

“You were the first to see her conscious,” he said. “And you’re always checking in on her. I’m giving you a challenge, Norris. If you can help her recover, you’ll earn a permanent position here.”

For me this wasn’t only about a promotion. It was about her.

I studied her face. Pale, thinner than it should have been. Behind her eyes, I saw pain, fear, a deep sadness that no medicine could fix.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked.

She swallowed, her voice hoarse. “A hospital.”

“That’s right,” I said softly. “You were in an accident. You’ve been in a coma for eight months.”

Her breath hitched. Her body tensed. “My fiancé,” she whispered.

I hesitated. I knew about him. The man who had betrayed her, the one she had been running from the night of her crash. “He’s not here,” I said simply

I saw the way her fingers curled into fists, the way her jaw tightened. Anger, sorrow, exhaustion—it was all there. She wasn’t just waking up to a broken body. She was waking up to a broken heart. And I was supposed to be the one to help her put herself back together

“I’m Dr. Lando Norris,” I said. “And I promise you, we’ll take this one step at a time. Together”