The fluorescent lights hummed above the ICU, casting a sterile glow over Gerald’s still form.
I slipped a chair next to his bed, clutching the box’s lid like a talisman.
“He’s breathing,” the nurse whispered, voice barely audible over the beeping monitor.
“Is he going to wake up?” My throat felt raw.
She shook her head, eyes softening. “He’s in a coma. It could be weeks, maybe longer.”
My mind raced back to the night I’d found the letters, the pictures of a woman with a familiar smile.
“Who was she?” I asked, the question spilling out before I could stop it.
The nurse paused, then sighed. “His sister, Laura. They’ve been estranged for years.”
“Sister? You’re joking.” I stared at the monitor, at the flat line that pulsed like a heartbeat.
She placed a hand on my arm. “I heard him mention her, but he never said why.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “All these years… I thought she was a lover.”
She gave a sympathetic smile. “People hide things. Sometimes it’s shame, sometimes it’s love.”
My gaze fell to the box, now open on the hallway floor, letters spilling like secrets.
“You’ve been keeping something else from me,” I whispered, half to the nurse, half to the empty room.
She shook her head gently. “I’m just here to care for him. I can’t tell you more.”
Outside the glass doors, a low murmur of footsteps echoed. I felt the weight of a life unraveling, each thread tugging at a different direction.
