V A LE R I E
The next morning, I awoke to the nostalgic scent of antiseptic and the hum of the hospital room. I had fallen asleep in the chair next to Giovanni's bed, my hand still clasped in his. He was still on the ventilator, but he was breathing on his own more often, the machines sighing in relief rather than fighting for each breath.
His eyes were open, watching me. There was a new clarity in them, a sharpness that hadn't been there yesterday. He was present. He was here.
"Morning," I whispered, my voice still thick with sleep. "Did you sleep well?"
He blinked once.
I smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached my eyes. "Good. I'm glad. Phoenix is doing well, by the way. He misses you. We all miss you."
His gaze softened, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a long
