When I finally pull into the parking lot, I can’t get out of the car fast enough. The main entrance doors are locked, but the night guard is behind the reception desk.

Sleeping.

“Hey!” I bang my fist on the glass doors.

He jolts awake and hits the door buzzer to let me in, which technically he shouldn’t have done, but following rules is the last thing on my mind right now. I rush inside and head straight for the elevators, ignoring the guard’s befuddled stare as I press the UP button impatiently.

“Excuse me, you have to sign in.” He stands, and his chair wheels back and bangs into the credenza behind him. “Wait, aren’t you the singer from Ashes & Embers?” He glances to the doors as if he’s expecting an entourage to appear.

I press the UP button again. “Nope. Not me.”

“Hold on. You have to sign in. Visiting hours are over. You can’t just come in here.”

The silver doors slide open, and I step inside the elevator, immediately pressing the door close button and then floor six as the guard crosses the foyer. The doors close just in time.

“Come on, come on...” I urge as the elevator ascends. My stomach lurches with the movement, and I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick.

Ember’s awake.

This isn’t one of my dreams.

This is real.

My heart is thumping like a bass drum. My mind is a flood of excitement and questions.

What do I say to her?

What will she say to me?

What if she can’t talk?

The elevator opens, and I sprint down the hall, sucking in a deep breath as I come to a stop at her doorway. Three nurses surround her bed, blocking my wife from my view. When they finally move, I have to grip the doorframe to steady myself.

It’s been so long since I’ve actually seen her move that she almost doesn’t seem real.

She’s turning her head abnormally slow from side to side on the pillow, squinting her eyes against the bright overhead light. Her lips are moving, but I can’t hear her from where I stand. Swallowing hard, I step into the room.

“Ember...” Her name slips from my lips as it has a thousand times before.

In my daydreams, the sound of my voice would put an ear-to-ear smile on her face, and she’d reach her hand out to me, pulling me into a frenzied hug that would instantly erase all the fear and loneliness. Everything would be normal and right again.

But she shows no sign of hearing my voice, or even realizing I’m in the room.

“Mr. Valentine,” one of the nurses says. “You really should not be here.”

“I called him,” the other nurse says. “There’s a note to call Mr. Valentine immediately with any changes.”

“Yes, I should be here.” I veer around her. “She’s really...” I stop next to the bed as Ember’s focus drifts to my face. My heart leaps up into my throat as I instinctively touch her hand. “Awake.”

Or at least, more awake than she was. She’s no longer looking at me like I’m see-through, but not exactly focusing on me either.

“Em?” My voice shakes. “Hey, baby...”

Her eyebrows pull together in a dramatic scowl. She jerks her hand from mine and curls her fingers into a fist.

“No. No no no.” Her head twists to the side. “Help...”

The crack in my heart spreads and threatens to split wide open. “It’s okay. You’re at the hospital. You’re safe. Me and Kenzi are fine too. Everything’s okay.”

Smile. Assure. Enhance calm. Repeat.

Exude epic zen.

Suppress my own screaming soul while I’m at it.

Repeat.

A moan escapes her lips, haunting to the bone, and it makes the hair on my arms stand on end.

I look to the nurse who’s grabbing Ember’s hands to still her. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Where’s the doctor? Why is she crying? Is she in pain?”

“You just missed the doctors. This behavior is normal. She’s confused and experiencing an overload of senses. She’s not fully coherent or aware of what’s happening.”

I’ve always been terrified that she’d wake up and be totally dysfunctional for the rest of her life—screaming and thrashing with no idea who or where she is. I don’t think I’ll be able to cope with it. It’ll be the end of me.

“Will that get better?” I ask as Ember’s whimpers feed my fears. “She’ll become more coherent, right?”

“Hopefully, yes, in time. We’re going to sedate her, and we’ll run more tests in the morning when the doctor comes back.”

I tear my attention from Ember to zero in on the nurse.

“Sedate her?” I echo. “Is that safe? She just came out of a coma and now you’re going to give her tranquilizers? What if she doesn’t wake up again?”

“That’s highly unlikely.”

“But is it possible?”

“I don’t believe so, Mr. Valentine. Honestly, it’s too soon to know anything.”

I glance at Ember, who’s whispering incoherently. My heart twists again. “Are you sure she’s not in pain?”