22.

Adrian was floating in a sea of darkness, wrapped in the heavy cocoon of sleep. His body felt weightless, drifting between the haze of consciousness and dreams. There was a distant echo of voices, but they were muffled, like the world was happening far away from him. He tried to cling to the sound, but it slipped through his fingers like sand.

Then, slowly, as if being pulled from deep water, Adrian began to wake. His eyelids fluttered open, and he squinted against the dim light filtering through the window. It was near dusk—the sky outside painted in hues of orange and pink, signaling the end of the day. He blinked a few times, trying to gather his bearings, the events from earlier a blur in his mind.

"You're awake," a gentle voice came from the side, and Adrian turned his head slowly to see a nurse standing by his bedside. She smiled at him kindly, her eyes filled with concern. "Don't try to move too much," she cautioned softly. "You're still weak."

Adrian gave a small, tired nod, his body still heavy with fatigue. Every muscle ached, and the memory of falling into the river came rushing back to him, sending a small shiver down his spine. He had been drowning, sinking deeper into the cold water, his body too exhausted to fight anymore. But then… he had been saved. By whom? He couldn't quite remember.

The nurse adjusted his pillows gently, fluffing them before stepping back. "You've been through a lot," she continued, her tone lighthearted in an attempt to lift his spirits. "But you're a strong one. Your husband will be proud of you."

Adrian's heart skipped at her words, and he couldn't stop the blush that crept up his cheeks. "H-Husband?" he stammered, looking away as heat flooded his face.

The nurse laughed, clearly amused by his reaction. "Oh, don't be shy! It's sweet, you know? A virtuous wife, worried sick about her husband. He'll wake up to see how well you've taken care of him."

Adrian's blush deepened, and he avoided her teasing gaze, focusing instead on his surroundings. His eyes scanned the room, but it felt empty, hollow even. He had hoped—no, expected—to see someone else. Ethan. Not just his body, lying there motionless on the hospital bed as it had for months, but the ethereal presence of his soul. The soul that had watched over him, protected him, and spoken to him in the softest of whispers.

Where was he?

Adrian's chest tightened with anxiety as he turned his gaze to the hospital bed beside him. Ethan's comatose body lay there, silent and still as ever. The monitors beeped rhythmically, the only sign that he was still alive. But that wasn't what Adrian was looking for. He wanted to see Ethan's soul, the one who had held him, comforted him… where was he now?

Had Ethan gotten angry with him for some reason? Or maybe, after the incident with the river, he had left? The thought made Adrian's throat tighten with fear. His heart raced as his eyes darted around the room, desperate for any sign of him. But there was nothing. Just the cold, sterile room and the distant sound of the beeping machines.

The nurse, noticing the slight panic in Adrian's eyes, mistook his worry for concern about Ethan's health. "Don't worry," she said gently. "Your husband's condition hasn't changed. He's stable. It's just going to take time." She gave him a reassuring pat on the hand. "You rest now. Everything's going to be fine."

Adrian forced a small smile, nodding mechanically as the nurse left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Once alone, Adrian's expression crumbled, and he sighed deeply, staring at Ethan's body. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. The waiting, the not knowing—it was all so heavy on his heart.

And then, as if the universe had heard his silent plea, something subtle yet powerful happened. No one saw it—no one but Adrian—but Ethan's finger twitched. Just the smallest movement, a fraction of an inch, but it was there.

Adrian didn't notice it at first, his mind too preoccupied with his worries. But then, in the dim light, there was a second movement. This time, it was more pronounced—Ethan's hand, resting on the bed, shifted slightly.

Adrian's breath hitched. His heart seemed to stop, and for a moment, he thought he was imagining things. But no. He wasn't. He had seen it. He had felt it.

"E-Ethan?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he stared at the hand, willing it to move again. But it remained still. Adrian's pulse raced, hope and fear warring inside him. Was it just his imagination? Had he wished so hard for a sign that his mind had created one?

Before he could spiral further into doubt, there was a soft knock on the door, and Augustin entered the room. His presence was like a calming balm, steady and warm, as he carried a small basket of fruits with him. He smiled kindly at Adrian, his usual domineering aura tempered by concern.

"You look better than I expected," Augustin said as he approached the bed, setting the basket down on the small table beside Adrian.

Adrian forced a small smile. "I feel… okay," he replied, though his voice was still laced with the anxiety that had been gnawing at him.

Augustin sat down in the chair beside the bed, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he studied Adrian. "I heard about what happened," he said softly, his expression serious. "You need to be more careful, Adrian. This world… it's not always kind."

Adrian swallowed hard, nodding. "I know. I wasn't expecting—"

"Expecting someone to try and kill you?" Augustin finished, his tone sharper than usual. "You need to be on guard. Leclair's furious about what happened, and he's doing everything he can to find out who's behind it."

Adrian looked down, guilt and fear swirling inside him. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's not your fault," Augustin interrupted gently, his voice softening. "But you have to understand, there are people out there who won't hesitate to hurt you if they think it will benefit them."

Adrian nodded again, though his thoughts were still scattered. The fear of what had happened in the river was still fresh in his mind, but now there was something else pressing on him—Ethan. Why couldn't he see him anymore? Where had he gone?

"Augustin…" Adrian began hesitantly, his eyes still fixed on Ethan's body. "Do you… believe in souls?"

Augustin raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the question. "Souls?" he repeated.

Adrian fidgeted with the blanket, unsure of how to explain what he had experienced. "I… I've seen Ethan. His soul, I mean. He's been with me all this time, even though his body hasn't woken up. But now… I can't see him anymore. I don't know where he's gone."

Augustin's expression softened as he leaned forward slightly, his eyes gentle. "You've been through a lot, Adrian," he said after a moment. "It's not uncommon for people to experience things like that when they're under stress. But that doesn't mean it's not real."

Adrian bit his lip, unsure of how to feel. Was it possible that his mind had conjured Ethan's soul as a coping mechanism? He didn't want to believe that. He couldn't. Ethan had been so real to him—so warm, so present.

"I know it sounds crazy," Adrian whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "But I swear, he was there. He held my hand, talked to me…"

Augustin reached out and gently squeezed Adrian's hand. "I believe you," he said softly. "And if Ethan was there before, I'm sure he'll come back."

Adrian nodded, though the uncertainty still gnawed at him. Where had Ethan gone? And why had he disappeared now, when Adrian needed him most?

As the night deepened, Adrian couldn't help but glance again at Ethan's body. He had seen his fingers move, hadn't he? Or was that just wishful thinking?

Augustin stayed with Adrian for a while longer, chatting lightly to ease the tension in the room. He shared stories about Leclair's temper and how furious he had been after learning what had happened to Adrian. It helped, in a small way, to know that someone was looking out for him.

"You're not alone in this, Adrian," Augustin said firmly as he rose to leave. "Leclair, Declan, even Mathew—we're all here for you. And I promise, we'll find out who's behind this."

Adrian nodded, grateful for Augustin's support. But as the door closed behind him, and the room fell silent once more, Adrian's gaze drifted back to Ethan. The stillness in the air felt heavy, suffocating.

And in the quiet of the night, with the distant hum of the hospital around him, Adrian whispered, "Ethan… come back to me."

But the only response was the steady beep of the machines, and the unmoving figure lying beside him.