Come With Me

Christie's POV

I didn't sleep well.

I kept reading that text over and over in my head even with the phone face down on the nightstand. *We know where you are.* Every time I closed my eyes it was right there waiting for me.

At some point past midnight, there was a knock on my door.

I sat up. "Yes?"

Lyon opened the door and stood in the frame. He was still fully dressed, which meant he hadn't slept either.

"I need to move you to a different room," he said.

I looked at him. "Why?"

"Heating issue in this wing. It's going to get cold before morning."

I looked around the room. It felt perfectly fine to me.

"Lyon."

"Christie."

"Is this about the text?"

"It's about the heating," he said. His face gave nothing away. "Grab your things. It'll take two minutes."

Maybe this was the point where I was supposed to tell him not to boss me around. Right?

But I grabbed my bag and my phone and followed him down the hall.

The new room was on the opposite side of the house. Bigger, warmer, closer to the main staircase. Closer to his room, though I noticed that and said nothing about it.

"Get some sleep," he said from the doorway.

"Lyon. Whatever is actually going on, you can tell me."

He looked at me for a moment. "Goodnight, Christie."

He pulled the door shut.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor for a while. Then I lay down and eventually, somewhere in the early hours, I slept.

I woke up to the sound of movement in the hallway. Soft, quick footsteps. I checked the time. Just past five in the morning.

I got up and went to Nima's room.

Lyon was already there, standing at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed, watching his mother's face. The monitors were running their usual readings. I came in quietly and moved to check the drip.

Then Nima moved.

It was small at first. Her fingers shifted against the blanket. Then her head turned slowly to one side and her eyelids began to lift, heavy and uncertain.

I leaned forward.

"Nima," I said softly. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyes opened fully.

They were dark and clear, and she looked directly at me. Not through me or past me. At me.

"Hey," I said, keeping my voice steady. "You're okay. You're safe. I'm Christie. I'm your doctor."

She blinked slowly. Her lips parted but no sound came out yet.

I reached for her hand to check her pulse and she turned her palm over and held mine. Not a weak grip either. She held my hand like she had decided to and she wasn't letting go yet.

I looked up at Lyon.

He hadn't moved from the foot of the bed. He was watching his mother's face with an expression I had never seen on him before.

All the hardness that was permanently built into his jaw and his eyes was just gone. He looked like someone had taken it off him while he wasn't paying attention.

His mother was awake. She was holding the hand of the woman he had brought here. And he was standing there taking it in like he didn't know what to do with how it felt.

I turned back to Nima and checked her pupils, her temperature, her grip strength. Everything was responding. Her body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do.

"You gave us a scare," I told her quietly. "But you're doing well. Really well."

She squeezed my hand once.

Then she turned her head slowly toward Lyon. He came around the bed immediately and crouched down to her level, his hand going to her face.

"Mom," he said. Just that. His voice was different when he said it.

Nima looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes moved between his face and mine and back again. Then she spoke, her voice thin but clear.

She looked straight at Lyon.

"She smells like yours."

The room went completely silent.

Lyon's hand stilled against his mother's face. He didn't look at me but I felt the shift in the room the same way you feel a temperature change.

I had no idea what she meant.

But the look on Lyon's face told me it actually meant something.