I helped him

Avery

Fear gripped me as I watched Jake's chest rise and fall in that shallow, fragile rhythm. He lay on the bed, hooked up to all sorts of medical equipment that I’d smuggled from the hospital. It wasn’t difficult, not with the access I had. Being a nurse had its perks, but none of them had ever felt as desperate as this. Keeping Jake alive—keeping him hidden—had become my sole mission, the only thing I could think about day in and day out.

The night they dumped him into that lake felt like a blur now, a foggy nightmare that replayed every time I closed my eyes. I still couldn’t believe he had survived. I couldn’t believe that I had pulled him from the water, that I had resuscitated him, and that he was here, in a darkened, unused room in the hospital, teetering on the edge of life.

Jake had been in a coma for weeks. Each day that passed without him waking up chipped away at my hope, like water eroding stone. I had begun to wonder if he would ever wake up. And yet, no matter how hope