Page 46 of Dark Princess: Shadows

"I'm many things."

Bridget smiled. "Aren't we all? So, you asked her to give you permission to kiss her hand by moving her finger?"

He nodded. "I asked for any physical sign. When I first felt it, I thought I had imagined it, so I asked her to do it again, and she did. If you take her hand, you will feel it too." He reluctantly let go so the doctor could take his place.

Looking skeptical, Bridget clasped Morelle's hand.

He activated the device before speaking to Morelle. "Can you move your finger for the physician?"

He held his breath, watching Bridget's face for a sign that she felt something as well and that he hadn't imagined it.

"I felt it." Bridget's professional demeanor couldn't quite hide her excitement. "This is very encouraging." She glanced at the monitors. "Her brain activity has been increasing over the past few days as you were talking." She nodded at him. "Good job, Brandon." She put Morelle's hand back on her bed. "I think we can help her along."

"How?"

"I'm going to give her a small amount of amantadine. It's sometimes used to accelerate emergence from coma states byincreasing dopamine activity in the brain." She turned to the door. "I will be back in a moment."

When she left, Brandon lifted Morelle's hand to his lips again. "I might be overstepping my kissing allowance, so I'm apologizing in advance." He gently kissed the back of her hand. "I'm so excited. Soon, I might be able to see your eyes, maybe even your smile."

When Bridget returned with a syringe already filled with the medicine, he put Morelle's hand down and took a step back to give the physician room to work.

Brandon watched as she injected the medication into Morelle's upper arm "How long before we know if it's working?"

"It varies from patient to patient," Bridget said. "The key is to watch for any signs of increased awareness or movement."

He took hold of Morelle's hand again, his thumb stroking the back of it as he waited.

The seconds stretched into minutes, each one feeling like an eternity. The steady beeping of the heart monitor seemed to grow louder in the tense silence.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, remembering that the device was off only after he had spoken.

"I'm activating my earpieces," Bridget said. "You can keep the teardrop on."

He was also wearing his earpieces, but not for the same reason Bridget had activated hers.

He was doing it so he could understand Morelle the moment she woke up, provided that she said anything to him. Bridget wasdoing so because they were still afraid of the princess's powerful compulsion ability, and her lashing out the moment she woke up.

He thought about all the stories he'd shared with her over the past days, all those tales of human achievement, of progress and change, of hope in the face of overwhelming odds. Had they reached her in that twilight realm between sleeping and waking?

Had they given her something to hold on to, a reason to fight her way back to consciousness?

Bridget moved quietly around the bed, checking readings and making notes on her tablet. But Brandon barely noticed, his attention completely focused on Morelle's face, watching for any sign of change.

Was it his imagination, or had her color improved slightly? Did her breathing seem different? He'd spent so many hours by her bedside that he felt attuned to the smallest variations in her condition, yet he didn't trust his own observations.

Hope could play tricks on the mind, making him see what he desperately wanted to see.

But that finger movement had been real. He hadn't imagined that.

"The medication should give her a boost," Bridget said quietly. "But it will need time to take effect. Keep talking to her. It seems to be helping." She gave him a reassuring smile before leaving the room.

Brandon kept on holding Morelle's hand, afraid to let go and miss another twitch. "There are so many more stories I can tell you about the brave people who fought for equal rights andmade the promise of freedom real for everyone. Would you like to hear more about it?"

He felt another slight pressure against his palm—stronger this time. His breath caught.

"That's it," he encouraged. "You're doing great. Can you try to open your eyes? I'd love to finally see what color they are."

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. Brandon held on to Morelle's hand, hoping that a small point of contact might serve as an anchor, helping to guide her back to the waking world. He continued talking, his voice growing hoarse, but he didn't care.

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