“You thought a grown-up lady was me?”
“I had been awake a long time.”
“Dad.”
“I know.”
“You’re bad at faces.”
“Apparently.”
Emma considered.
Then:
“What’s her name?”
“Victoria.”
“Is she okay?”
Daniel looked toward the wall separating rooms.
“I don’t know.”
“Did she wake up?”
“No.”
Emma’s face became serious.
“Was anyone with her?”
Daniel remembered Lena’s answer.
Sometimes.
“No.”
Emma looked at the violin.
Then at Daniel.
“You should play again.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“For Victoria.”
“Emma.”
“She was alone.”
“I don't know her.”
“You didn’t know me when I was born.”
Daniel stared.
“That is not remotely the same.”
Emma shrugged.
“You stayed.”
He almost laughed.
Children weaponized simplicity against every adult defense.
“I accidentally entered her room.”
“Still counts.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Emma.”
She leaned back.
“Mom would.”
There it was.
The unfair move.
Daniel looked at her.
“What?”
“Mom would play.”
He had no answer.
Because she was right.
Claire would have.
Not because Victoria was important.
Not because there was any connection.
Claire once played violin in an airport terminal for a crying toddler whose flight had been canceled.
She played at a nursing home where she knew no one.
She played outside a grocery store after an elderly veteran said her case reminded him of his wife.
Music was never private property to Claire.
If someone needed comfort and Claire had a violin, that was the entire qualification.
Daniel looked toward the door.
“No promises.”
Emma smiled.
That afternoon Dr. Shah told Daniel Emma could probably go home the following day if her oxygen remained stable.
Relief made everything else possible.
Eating.
Sleeping.
Thinking beyond the next monitor beep.
At seven, Aunt Rachel arrived to sit with Emma while Daniel showered in the family lounge.
Instead, Daniel found himself standing outside Room 812.
He held Claire’s violin.
Lena was at the station.
She recognized him.
“You’re back.”
“Maybe.”
She smiled slightly.
“Victoria is still unconscious.”
“I know.”
“She still hasn’t opened her eyes.”
“Emma asked me to play.”
Lena’s eyebrows lifted.
“For Victoria?”
“Apparently my daughter runs this hospital now.”
“She’ll fit in management.”
Daniel smiled.
Then grew serious.
“Is it allowed?”
Lena considered.
“As long as you understand something.”
“What?”
“This is not treatment.”
“I know.”
“It might not change anything.”
“I know.”
“She may not hear you.”
Daniel nodded.
“Still okay?”
“Yes.”
Lena opened the door.
This time Daniel entered knowing exactly who was in the bed.
Victoria Reynolds.