The phone's shrill ring shattered the stillness of the night. The call was urgent and unexpected, plunging Lesley into a state of frantic worry. The surgeon who operated on Nick was on the other end, calling from the NYU Trauma Center with dire information.

"Hello, is this Lesley Livingston?" A soft-spoken woman's voice came through the phone.

Lesley clutched her phone tightly, pressing it against her ear. Fear surged through her veins, and a flood of nerves consumed her, as she anxiously pondered on what revelations the call would bring.

"Yes, this is Lesley." She said hastily, the words spilling from her mouth like a sudden downpour on a stormy day.

"I'm Dr. Singh." She introduced herself. "I wanted to provide you with an update on your husband, Nick." Dr. Singh's voice echoed compassion and concern.

"Okay," Lesley said impatiently. Her thoughts plunged into the abyss of the unknown, teetering on the brink of Nick's potential demise. Her heart sank deep into the pit of her stomach, and she felt as though she had been uprooted from the earth and thrust into her own mind, where her thoughts weaved an agonizingly dreadful resolution.

"Currently, Nick isn't doing well."

A loud gasp escaped Lesley's lips.

"What's going on? Will he live?" Her thoughts once again threw her into a terrifying reality. It was as if her mind was operating with an uncanny psychic ability. Or so she thought. Her heart sped faster, the beat vibrating against her throat. Her hands trembling as she stood there paralyzed by fear, waiting for Dr. Singh to utter her next words.

"Unfortunately, his prognosis isn't good. I understand you were initially informed that his injury affected his gluteus maximums. However, that wasn't the case. The bullet hit his lower back, thankfully missing his spinal cord by centimeters."

Lesley interrupted Dr. Singh with another loud gasp and a subtle cry.

Dr. Singh continued. "Fragments of the bullet traveled into his appendix, which we successfully removed. We were also able to extract the bullet from his lower back, but after the surgery, he fell into a coma. He is currently in our ICU."

"What?!" Lesley asked, shocked. Her voice trembling with panic. "Is he going to survive?!" Lesley pleaded for an answer as tears streamed down her face.

Dr. Singh took a deep breath on the other end of the line. "His prognosis isn't good at this time. From my experience, I want to remain hopeful, and I believe there is a forty percent chance of him pulling through."

"Oh my God! You can't be serious?" Lesley cried, clinging onto the phone as if it were a lifeline that could potentially save Nick.

"I'm sorry, Lesley." Dr. Singh expressed her sorrow and abruptly ended the call, leaving Lesley overwhelmed by a new wave of distress, her emotions were in turmoil.

Without further thought, Lesley immediately grabbed her car keys, slipped on her beige coat, and strolled out of her door. She was on a mission, determined to make it to NYU Hospital before  sunrise. Hopeful that Nick would pull through.

***

Lesley had never been this profoundly shaken up before, not even when she was first visited by Leah. The sheer magnitude of fear, pain, and heartache she experienced that day was unlike anything she had ever felt. She was never on the brink of losing anyone close to her, except for now. When she lost her father at the age of nineteen, it stirred little emotional response from her- ultimately he was a stranger. She had never even met the guy before she heard about his untimely demise. Her heart clung to her mother and grandparents, whom sacrificed all they had to give Lesley a good life given the absence of her father.

All she could think about in those dreadful moments were Nick. Memories flooded her mind like a cascade of rainwater without an appropriate reservoir to flow into.

When she arrived at the NYU Trauma Center she immediately walked through the glass double doors, storming into the hospital, and nearly running to the nurses' station.

"Hi!" Lesley greeted the nurse sitting behind the white counter, as she tried to muster up as much kindness as she could possibly find within on such a horrific day. "I'm here to see my husband, Nick Livingston. He was airlifted from Arcaden Medical Center last night."

The nurse gazed up at Lesley through her thick bifocal glasses. Her expression was stoic as she slipped her hand into a potato chip bag that lay on top of her desk. She placed the chip into her mouth and crunched on it as she chewed.

"Excuse me." The nurse said, her voice carrying a faint note of apology. "It's been ten long hours, and I haven't even had a decent lunch today."

Her gaze dropped to her computer screen, and she placed her chubby fingers over the keyboard as she began typing.

The nurse halted her typing and glanced up at Lesley.

"Do you have your driver's license or another form of identification?" 

Lesley nodded frantically, her heart pounding like a frantic drum. She reached down into her purse, her fingers fumbling in haste as she retrieved her driver's license. Without a moment's hesitation, she slid it across the pristine white countertop, aimed directly at the nurse.

"Here you go!" Lesley exclaimed, her patience wearing thin as she handed over the license.

After a few more questions and confirming Lesley's relationship to Nick, the nurse escorted her back to his room. As they walked down the stretch of the long white-walled hallway, the nurse pointed out Dr. Singh to Lesley.

"Your husband is in room fourteen. That is Dr. Singh right there, standing outside of his room." The nurse pointed to a woman in the near distance. Dr. Singh held a clipboard in her hand and her hair was neatly tied up in a bun.

Then, to her surprise, she spotted Officer Grant sitting in the waiting room, holding a white to-go coffee cup wrapped in a brown eco-friendly sleeve. His eyes widened as he watched Lesley stroll toward Nick's room. He suddenly stood up from the gray chair and made his way over to Lesley.

"Hello, Lesley." He greeted, a half-smile on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Lesley was shocked by Officer Grant's sudden surprise of her arrival.
"Well, you know Nick is my husband." She replied defensively.

"Of course, I know that." Officer Grant began. "Nick is currently in our custody, though. We discussed this already Lesley." He reminded her.

Lesley nodded, irritated by Officer Grant's lecture.

Officer Grant furrowed his brows. "Nick was held hostage and the hospital cannot release him to anyone when he wakes except for us, the Arcaden Police Department."

"You've got to be kidding me?" Lesley rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling as the heat of anger rolled through her like a tumbleweed in a desert storm.

"I'm sorry, Lesley." Officer Grant began. "I really am. However, this is an active investigation and I'm just following the department's protocol and procedure."

"My husband is in a fucking coma!" Lesley's voice rose, drawing the attention of other visitors and patients who cast sidelong glances as they discreetly distanced themselves from the escalating tension.

"Dr. Singh called me to tell me that my husband has a forty percent chance of survival, and you think I give a damn about your department's protocol?!"

Officer Grant raised his hand in an effort to calm Lesley down.

"Lesley, I know it's not what you want to hear. But I have to be the first one to speak with him." He explained. "I promise, you'll see him soon after."

"And how long will that be?" Lesley inquired, her eyebrows raised.

"He's currently in a coma, as you know. The doctors don't know when he'll come out of it. However, we're hopeful he can detail the events that transpired when Greg took him hostage."

"And what about Greg?" Lesley inquired. "Did you interview Greg?"

Officer Grant nodded. "Yes, we did. He's not speaking, though. He won't tell us anything." He shrugged.

"Officer Grant!" Dr. Singh called out as she ran into the waiting room where Lesley and Dr. Grant stood, her sneakers screeching against the freshly waxed floor. "Officer Grant!"

"What is it?!" Officer Grant asked concerningly.

"Nick's opened his eyes!" She exclaimed with enthusiasm.