The sun had barely risen when Olivia found herself still sitting in the hospital waiting room. Her hair was untidy, her eyes swollen from crying all night. She hadn't slept—not even for a second. Her mind replayed the moment over and over again: Peter's laughter, the kiss, the headlights, the crash.
Amelia approached quietly, holding two cups of coffee. "You need to drink something," she said softly.
Olivia didn't move. "It's my fault, Mom," she whispered. "He left because of me. If I hadn't kissed him… he wouldn't have been on that road."
Amelia set the cup down beside her and sat close. "No, sweetheart," she said gently. "Accidents happen. You can't blame yourself for something you never caused."
Olivia looked up at her mother, her eyes trembling. "But you saw how happy he was, Mom. He sang all the way home… I just know he wouldn't have been driving like that if I didn't—"
"Stop." Amelia placed a finger on her lips. "You both had a beautiful moment, Olivia. Don't turn it into pain."
At that moment, Peter's mother approached them slowly. Her face was pale, her hands shaking. "Doctor Amelia," she said faintly. "May I see him now?"
Amelia nodded. "They'll let you in soon. He's stable for now."
The corridor was quiet except for the rhythmic beeping of machines and the occasional footsteps of nurses. Peter lay motionless in his ward, surrounded by tubes and monitors. His face looked calm, almost peaceful, but to Olivia, it was unbearable to see him like that.
She stood beside the glass window, staring in through the reflection, whispering to herself, "Please, Peter… wake up."
Susan was in the corner, praying under her breath. "Lord, please have mercy… don't take my son away."
Amelia joined them and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll keep monitoring him every hour," she said softly. "There's still hope."
Later that afternoon, Mrs. Natacha, their biology teacher, walked into the hospital with a small fruit basket in her hand. "I came as soon as I heard," she said, her voice breaking. "How's Peter?"
Olivia shook her head. "Still the same."
Mrs. Natacha hugged her tightly. "He's strong, Olivia. Remember how he led your team when you all almost gave up? He won't stop fighting now."
Olivia nodded faintly, tears returning.
Meanwhile, John had received a call from his office. One of his major court cases was scheduled that morning—a property defense case for an old client. He didn't want to leave the hospital, but duty called.
"Are you sure you'll be okay here?" he asked Amelia.
She smiled tiredly. "Go, John. We'll be fine. Peter's stable for now."
John kissed Olivia's forehead. "Stay strong for him, okay?"
She nodded weakly as he left.
Hours later, John stood in court, his voice steady but his mind elsewhere. He tried to focus on his arguments, but every thought was clouded by Peter's pale face in the hospital bed. The hearing dragged on for hours, and despite his best effort, the judgment came in favor of the government.
His client was devastated, and John felt the sting of defeat sink deep in his chest.
He left the courthouse quietly, loosened his tie, and sat in his car for a long while before driving back to the hospital.
When he arrived, Amelia was sitting alone by the vending machine, her face tired but calm. He didn't need to speak—she already knew.
"It didn't go well, did it?" she asked softly.
He shook his head. "No. We lost the case."
She reached for his hand. "You did your best."
For the first time in a long while, John smiled faintly. "I just want to go home with good news someday."
Amelia looked toward Peter's ward. "Maybe that day is closer than we think."
That evening, the hospital lights dimmed. Visitors were asked to leave, but Olivia refused to go home. She sat by the ward window, whispering the same words again and again, her palms pressed together.
"Please, God… don't take him. Give him another chance."
Her voice was faint, trembling—but sincere. And somewhere in that quiet room, as the machines beeped in rhythm, a faint movement flickered in Peter's fingers—so small it went unnoticed.
It was the first sign of hope.