CHAPTER ELEVEN – IN THE ICU

Distant sounds continued to intrude - the shushed murmurings from her medical team, the dull cacophony of activity beyond her room's sliding glass partition walls, an intercom summons for a code or patient transport periodically punctuating the ambient din. At some point, she thought she detected raised voices, sharpened to the lancing tones of distress and anger. They pricked at her consciousness, jarring loose disjointed flashes of memory that only left Charlotte with more confusion. The rhythmic beeping of the machines seemed both reassuring and torturous to Lillian's ears. A constant reminder that her daughter still clung to life, but also that her fate remained precarious. She clasped Charlotte's limp hand, studying her daughter's bruised face and willing her eyes to open. "Come on, sweetheart," she whispered hoarsely. "You have to keep fighting." Richard paced the room anxiously, his fists clenching and unclenching. Patrick sat slumped in the corner, his eyes red-rimmed fro