The faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as she opened her eyes. The sterile scent of antiseptic hit her first, followed by the rhythmic beeping of monitors. A dull ache throbbed at the back of her head as she shifted slightly, her limbs feeling heavy.
"Miss, can you hear me?" a soft voice asked, pulling her from the haze. She blinked, her vision sharpening to see a nurse standing beside her, eyes wide with relief.
"You're awake," the nurse said with a soft smile. "Try not to move too much, okay? I'll go get the doctor."
Moments later, familiar footsteps entered the room. Maya's chest eased as she recognized the woman stepping in—a white coat, messy bun, and the determined stride she knew all too well.
"Clara," Maya croaked, her throat dry but voice steady.
Clara's face lit up with relief as she approached the bed. "Welcome back, sleeping beauty," she said, her tone warm with just a hint of mischief. "How are you feeling? Dizziness? Nausea? Sudden desire to star in a soap opera?"
Maya gave her a weak glare. "Just… tired. What happened?"
Clara pulled out a penlight, her grin growing. "Well, the short version? You tried to cosplay as a lightning rod and Mother Nature wasn't impressed." She clicked the light on. "Now follow this for me, let's see if your superpowers kicked in."
She moved the beam side to side, her eyes focused. "Any tingling in your fingers or toes? Blurry vision? Involuntary urge to predict the weather?"
Maya blinked slowly, trying to keep up. "Wait… are you saying I got struck by lightning?"
Clara nodded, still smirking. "Yep. Right out of the sky. Very dramatic. Ten out of ten entrance." Clara leaned back, as she finish the examination. "Good. No brain injury. So… maybe there's some brain improvement?"
Maya frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Clara shrugged, her grin widening. "Who knows? Lightning strikes are weird. You might've gained a photographic memory or turned into a math prodigy. Quick, what's the square root of 3,456,789?"
Maya groaned. "Clara, I swear—stop."
Clara chuckled, clearly amused. "Hey, I'm just trying to gauge the extent of your new abilities. If you start reciting Shakespeare in French or solving unsolvable equations, let me know."
Maya rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."
Clara laughed again, setting the clipboard aside. "Okay, fine. You've been unconscious for five days, but everything seems normal. I called your husband Tim as soon as you woke up," Clara went on. "He's probably speeding over here like he's in Fast & Furious 12: Dad Edition."
Maya let out a soft chuckle.
"But I doubt he'll bring the boys with him—it's the middle of the night, and they're likely drooling on their pillows right now."
Maya nodded, her smile fading into something more tender. "Yeah… that's probably for the best. I don't want them waking up scared or rushed."
Clara gave her a reassuring nod. "Exactly. Let them sleep. You'll see their messy little heads first thing in the morning."
Maya sighed, letting Clara's familiar blend of sarcasm and comfort ease the weight in her chest. Leave it to Clara to make even the strangest, most terrifying moments feel almost… normal.