The room was dark.
Only one window let in any light, the pale glow of the moon spilling across the floor and stretching toward the bed.
Kate lay there, still, her red hair spread messily against the pillow.
Her breathing wasn't steady.
Soft murmurs slipped past her lips, quiet, broken—
"I'm still a virgin…"
Her fingers twitched against the sheets.
"…I am…"
A pause.
Then—
The sound came first.
A scream.
"RAY, STAY WITH ME!"
Julia's voice—sharp, breaking, echoing from somewhere too far and too close at the same time.
Kate's body tensed.
Her breath hitched.
Sirens.
Loud.
Too loud.
Cutting through everything.
"Stay with me—stay with me—"
The words overlapped. Warped.
Kate's face tightened in her sleep.
Her hand gripped the blanket.
"Ray…"
Her voice cracked, barely audible.
Then—
Silence.
Not calm.
Not peaceful.
Just… empty.
Kate's eyes snapped open.
Her chest heaved, breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls.
Sweat clung to her skin, soaking through her shirt, sticking her hair to her face and neck.
For a second—she didn't move.
Just stared at the ceiling.
Trying to remember where she was.
Trying to convince herself it wasn't real.
Her hand tightened in the sheets.
"I'm sorry, Ray… it's all my fault," she sobbed.
Her voice broke on his name, barely holding together.
She curled in on herself, hands gripping the sheets as if that would keep everything from spilling over again.
Her shoulders shook.
Quiet at first.
Then not.
"Why did I let you get into that car… I was so angry."
Her voice came out uneven, words tripping over each other.
She pressed a hand against her forehead, eyes squeezing shut like it could block it out.
But it didn't.
Nothing did.
"I'm sorry I left you alone… I swear I'll come back."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, like saying it softer might make it true.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, curling in on the bed.
As if she could hold onto something that wasn't there anymore.
"Once you wake up… I won't be a whore anymore."
The words came out small. Fragile.
She pressed her lips together right after, like she already regretted saying it.
Her fingers tightened in the blanket, knuckles paling.
Like she was trying to make a promise to something she couldn't reach.
As she closed her eyes, she whispered, "Please, Julia… stay with him. I promise… when I'm done here, I'll come back."
Her voice barely made a sound.
The room stayed quiet.
Only her uneven breathing filling the space.
Willow Creek Hospital — 3:07 a.m.
As Kate lay awake, somewhere else, Julia was dealing with problems of her own.
The hallway stretched out in front of her, quiet and cold under the fluorescent lights.
A doctor stepped out through the double doors, the quiet click echoing more than it should've.
He adjusted his gloves as he walked, already looking tired—like this wasn't the first time tonight he had to do this.
His eyes found Julia almost immediately.
And there it was.
That look.
The one people wore when they had to be the bearer of bad news… again.
He slowed slightly as he approached her, like he was buying himself a few extra seconds.
"Henry, tell me what the fuck is going on with him!"
Julia stepped forward fast, closing the distance before he could even settle.
"Julia, please—I know we've known each other for years now, but could you call me Doctor—"
She cut him off instantly.
"We smoked weed together for the first time, and basically were raised together. SHUT UP and tell me!"
Her voice echoed down the hallway, sharp, cracking at the edges.
Henry exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his face for a second before looking back at her.
Up close, the exhaustion showed more clearly now.
And something else.
Hesitation.
He hesitated, jaw tightening slightly.
"It's… it's been eight months, Julia…"
His voice was lower now. Careful.
Like he was choosing every word before letting it out.
He didn't look away from her.
But he didn't step closer either.
"The chances of him ever waking up are getting…"
He paused, the words catching for a second.
"…lower."
Quiet.
Too quiet for how heavy it felt.
He finally exhaled, looking at her properly now.
"We're reaching a point where we have to start being realistic."
Julia stepped closer, her voice dropping as she leaned in.
"Wanna talk about realistic?"
Her words brushed right against his ear, sharp and controlled.
"You're gonna keep trying to wake him up," she whispered. "You're gonna read every fucking book…"
A pause.
"…or I'm gonna tell your wife what we did last year."
She pulled back just enough to look at him.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just pressure.
Julia stepped closer, her voice dropping as she leaned in.
"Wanna talk about realistic?"
Her words brushed right against his ear, sharp and controlled.
"You're gonna keep trying to wake him up," she whispered. "You're gonna read every fucking book…"
A pause.
"…or I'm gonna tell your wife what we did last year."
She pulled back just enough to look at him.
Henry froze.
Not dramatically—just enough that it was obvious something hit.
His shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicked away for a second, then back to her.
"Julia…" he muttered under his breath, more warning than protest.
A nurse passing by slowed slightly, sensing the tension, before deciding not to get involved and continuing down the hallway.
Henry swallowed, lowering his voice.
"You don't mean that."
But he didn't sound sure.
Not even a little.
His hand tightened around the file he was holding, the edges bending slightly under his grip.
"Not like I did mind… our little fuck."
The words were quiet, almost casual—but they landed hard.
Henry's face tightened immediately.
"Jesus, Julia—" he muttered, glancing down the hallway again, making sure no one was close enough to hear.
His voice dropped even lower.
"Don't say that here."
His grip on the file stiffened, knuckles paling slightly.
Julia didn't move.
Didn't care.
"But I hope you are doing everything you can to help Ray, right?"
That hit differently.
Henry exhaled slowly, tension settling deeper into his shoulders.
"I am," he said, more firmly now. "I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't."
There was a flicker of frustration in his eyes now—mixed with something else.
Guilt.
"I've been on his case since the night he came in," he added, quieter. "Every option we have—I'm looking at it."
A pause.
Then, softer:
"But there are limits, Julia."
"Just keep trying… though I'm pretty sure this pervert would wake up if I showed my tits in the same room as him."
She smiled.
Henry didn't.
His expression tightened, something between disbelief and irritation flashing across his face.
"That's not funny," he said quietly, but there was an edge to it now.
He looked at her for a second longer, like he was trying to decide if she was joking—or just coping.
"Not here. Not about this."
A nurse at the desk nearby glanced up briefly, sensing the shift in tone, before looking back down at her screen.
Henry exhaled slowly, running a hand over the back of his neck.
"…I'll keep trying," he added, more subdued now.
"Good… and I'm gonna make sure Shea never finds out."
She winked at him.
Henry didn't react right away.
But his jaw tightened again, tension settling deeper into his face.
"Don't," he said quietly. Not sharp—just tired. "Don't drag her into this."
His eyes held on hers for a second longer than before.
There was no humor there.
Only pressure.
And the uncomfortable truth that she could.
"Then I hope you understand, doctor… it's not only Ray's life you have in your hands…"
Julia held his gaze, the hint of a smile gone now.
Henry didn't answer immediately.
His throat moved slightly as he swallowed, the weight of what she meant settling in.
"I understand," he said quietly.
But he didn't look convinced.
He looked… trapped.
His fingers tightened around the file again, the paper crinkling softly under the pressure.
And for a moment, neither of them moved.
"Stop looking at me like I'm planning to overthrow your marriage."
Julia stepped closer again, just for a second—close enough to make it uncomfortable.
"Though I wouldn't mind your dick all to myself."
She said it lightly, almost like a joke, before turning and walking toward the entrance.
Henry stayed where he was.
Didn't follow.
Didn't respond.
He just stood there, staring after her, tension still written all over his face.
After a moment, he let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face.
"…fuck," he muttered under his breath.
Then he looked back at the doors behind him.
And went back in.
Julia stepped outside, the cold air hitting her face instantly.
She didn't stop walking until she reached the edge of the parking lot.
Only then did she pull out a cigarette from a pack she'd bought earlier that day.
The lighter clicked once.
Twice.
The flame caught.
She inhaled slowly, holding it in longer than usual before letting the smoke drift out into the night.
After the accident… she'd been the one who stayed.
Day after day.
Night after night.
Ray's parents came when they could—but work, bills, mortgages… life didn't stop for them.
So most of the time—
it was just her.
She leaned against the cold wall, eyes drifting toward nothing in particular.
He was all she had left.
At least…
until Kate finished her therapy.
"I know you were traumatized," Julia muttered under her breath, smoke slipping past her lips. "Told yourself that if he ever wakes up… you want to be normal for him."
She let out a quiet breath, watching it disappear into the cold air.
"But you are normal, Kate."
Her grip tightened slightly around the cigarette.
"More than you think."
"At least it's only two weeks before she comes back," she whispered to herself.
Her voice sounded smaller out here.
"I could use some emotional help… at least."
She let out a quiet breath, smoke curling up into the night as she stared ahead, alone.
"Ray… please. I need you to wake up."
The words barely made it past her lips.
Her hand trembled slightly, the cigarette burning unevenly between her fingers.
For a moment, she just stood there.
Then her eyes shut tight—
And it slipped.
A tear.
Just one.
She wiped it away quickly, almost annoyed at herself.
It was March 31st.
The only day she'd let herself cry that month.
Tomorrow—
she'd go back to holding it together.