.
"Good morning, Ms. Monroe," the doctor said as he came closer. He spoke as though she couldn't answer, and that made her want to scream. But she kept her face composed, only narrowing her eyes slightly.
"Let's check her vitals."
The nurses moved with practiced ease. A cuff wrapped around her arm, squeezing tightly. The cold stethoscope pressed against her chest. One nurse checked the IV line while the other noted the monitor readings.
"Blood pressure improving," one nurse said.
"Pulse stronger," the other added.
The doctor nodded, scribbling notes into his chart. "Good. You're making steady progress. Keep it up."
Progress. The word echoed inside her head like the clang of metal against metal. Sharp, deliberate.
When they finally left, the room was silent again, except for the beep of the monitor and the faint hiss of oxygen.
Progress.
Yes. Slowly, her body was responding. Slowly, she was clawing her way back.
