Page 10

Story: Dealbreaker

So I spend some time basically stalking her room.

She’s as beautiful lying there in a coma as she is in the pictures I found of her online. In some ways, even more so. There’s an innocence to her as she sleeps, and for some reason it breaks my heart that she might never wake up. I don’t even know her but there’s something incredibly… vulnerable about her as she lies there. It’s almost like she’s subconsciously asking for my help.

And I’m a sucker for a woman in trouble.

I hear a voice as I walk up to her room for the fourth or fifth time today, but this is a familiar one.

It’s Holly, and I’m momentarily confused.

“As no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton…”

What the hell am I listening to?

Holly must be reading to Willow.

Interesting.

Based on the verbiage, it’s some sort of historical novel.

And for some reason, I’m rooted to the spot, listening.

Holly’s voice is soothing, and the story gets my attention.

“...Oh! No—it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go…”

Mr. Darcy.

Wait, this sounds like Pride and Prejudice.

Briar made me sit through the movie once, but I fell asleep. Romance really isn’t my thing.

“Mr. Dash, you should be in bed.” Renita is one of the not-so-nice nurses. Well, she’s okay, but a real stickler for the rules.

“I’m supposed to walk,” I say calmly. “And I can’t sleep. So the choice is either lie there and keep pushing the little button to bitch about anything and everything to the nurses or walk up and down the corridors without bothering anyone.”

She purses her lips. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. Then I want you back in bed.” She turns on her heel and disappears into a room down the hall.

“...His behavior to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father…”

The book is somehow much more interesting than the movie, and I stand there for what feels like a long time, listening to Holly read.

Sometime later—I’ve completely lost track of how long I’ve been standing here—Holly comes out.

“Mr. Dash.” She smiles. “Lurking in the halls again? Do you want a sleeping pill?”

I shake my head. “No, thank you. Your voice caught my attention and then somehow I got pulled into the story.”

“Pride and Prejudice. Such a classic. And apparently it’s Ms. St. Claire’s favorite book. Mr. Durand brought it in this morning, said maybe someone could read it to her. He heard that sometimes it helps coma patients if you read and talk to them.”

“Yeah? So how come he isn’t doing it?” I counter.

Her eyes meet mine, and I see a weird mixture of approval and disappointment in her eyes.

“I wish I knew,” is all she says.

“So… does it?” I ask. “Help, I mean.”

“We don’t know for sure, but yes, there are stories from people who’ve come out of comas saying that they could hear loved ones talking to them. Reading. Playing their favorite music.” She glances back to where Willow is still motionless on the bed. “But we’re losing hope for Willow…”