They had removed the tumor.
There were no immediate complications.
Sophie was in recovery.
Linda began to cry openly then. I stood very still, afraid that if I moved, I might collapse.
Dr. Shah continued explaining next steps, pathology, monitoring, medication, recovery. I heard it all through a haze of relief so fierce it almost hurt.
Sophie was alive.
She was alive.
When we were finally allowed to see her, she was groggy and pale, surrounded by soft machine sounds. Linda went in first.
I waited outside the room, staring at the floor.
After several minutes, Linda opened the door.
“She’s asking for you.”
Inside, Sophie’s eyes fluttered open when I approached.
“Hey,” I whispered.
Her lips moved.
I leaned closer.
“What?”
“Detective name,” she murmured.
I frowned, confused.
Then I realized.
She was referring to the book.
I let out a shaky laugh that turned dangerously close to a sob.
“I still can’t pronounce it.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“Thought so.”
I sat beside her and took her hand only after she moved her fingers toward mine.
“You did great,” I whispered.
She drifted in and out of sleep.
Each time she woke, she seemed surprised to find me there.
