Chapter 99: Chapter 99 - She Wakes
Three days passed before she woke.
The hospital room was quiet in the careful way of places meant to keep people alive, light softened by curtains, warmth settled deep into her skin. Iyisha surfaced slowly, awareness coming back in fragments, the weight of blankets, the dull ache threaded through her limbs, the steady rhythm of machines breathing beside her.
She opened her eyes with effort.
Ester stood near the window, placing a single flower into the small vase, adjusting the stem with gentle fingers. Mary was at the foot of the bed, chart in hand, checking the IV and making notes, her movements calm and practiced.
They were talking softly when Iyisha made a sound.
Barely more than a breath.
Mary looked up first, her expression shifting instantly, relief breaking through. Ester turned so quickly the vase rattled.
"Oh," Ester breathed. "You’re awake."
Iyisha blinked, her throat dry, her body heavy and slow. "Hi," she whispered.
That was enough.
Ester was beside her in a second, hugging her carefully, arms warm and shaking. Mary leaned in from the other side, one hand cupping Iyisha’s cheek, the other pressing gently against her shoulder.
"You scared us," Mary said, her voice steady but thick. "You were very close."
"The cold almost took you," Ester added softly.
Iyisha stared at the ceiling, listening, letting the words settle. Pieces of memory drifted past, dark water, shaking she could not control, the sound of someone telling her not to sleep. She felt the warmth now, the solid certainty of breath filling her lungs, of her heart still beating.
It feels like a miracle, she thought quietly. That she’s still alive.
Speaking of miracles...
Her eyes shifted then, searching the room without her meaning to, lingering on the empty chair, the space near the door.
Mary followed her gaze.
"He went back to guard duty," she said gently. "But he stayed here the whole time. He didn’t leave until you were stable."
Mary barely gave her a second to breathe before she started in.
"Any dizziness," she asked, already checking her pupils. "Nausea. Pain in your chest. Tingling in your fingers. Headache worse than before."
Iyisha blinked, trying to keep up, her thoughts slow and syrupy. "I feel... heavy," she said honestly. "Cold. But not like before."
Mary nodded, scribbling. "That’s expected. Your core temp dropped dangerously low. Your body is still recalibrating."
Ester leaned closer, smoothing the blanket over Iyisha’s shoulder. "You scared everyone," she said softly, then smiled like she was trying to hide how close it had been. "You stopped shaking for a while. Mary wouldn’t let anyone leave the room."
Mary shot her a look but did not deny it.
"You went into moderate hypothermia with complications," Ester continued, voice gentler now. "The bite didn’t help. Infection risk. Shock risk. You were in and out the first day. Second day you didn’t wake at all."
Iyisha swallowed.
"You kept fighting though," Ester said. "Even when your body wanted to shut down."
Mary glanced up at her. "You’re stubborn," she said plainly. "That helped."
A soft knock sounded at the door.
They all looked up.
The door opened slowly and a familiar figure stepped in, Michael standing there with a paper bag tucked carefully in his arms like it contained something fragile. He hesitated when he saw her eyes open, then his face broke into a smile he did not bother to hide.
"Oh," he said, relieved. "You’re awake."
Iyisha smiled back, small but real.
She had not always known what to do with Michael. Had not given him much space before. But over time he had been there, quiet and steady, showing up without asking for anything back.
Mary straightened. "She is," she said, then stepped aside. "You can come in."
Michael moved closer, setting the bag gently on the table. "I brought soup," he said, almost apologetic. "And bread. They said warm but not too hot."
Iyisha looked at him, warmth spreading in her chest that had nothing to do with temperature. "Thank you," she said.
He nodded once, clearly trying not to overwhelm her. "Good to see you," he added, voice softer.
Mary clapped her hands once, sharp and decisive, cutting straight through the moment.
"Alright," she said, lips curling with mischief. "Enough with the awkwardness. You’re only acting like that because of Malcolm."
Iyisha let out a weak breath of a laugh.
Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "That man is six foot five," he muttered. "It’s hard to casually visit when someone that big is standing there glowering like you’ve committed a crime."
Iyisha smiled, warmth flickering through the fatigue. "He’s always like that," she said softly. "Don’t take it to heart."
Michael nodded, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. "Good to know."
He lingered just long enough to give her a small wave, then slipped out quietly, leaving the room lighter than it had been moments before.
The door barely clicked shut when Ester leaned in, eyes bright. "Well," she said, drawing it out. "Look at you."
Mary grinned outright. "Waking up to two men hovering. Must be nice."
Iyisha giggled, the sound weak but genuine, surprised by how easily it came. "That sounds ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.
They exchanged knowing looks, clearly unconvinced.
She settled back against the pillows, letting the teasing roll over her without sticking. In her own mind, the truth felt much simpler than the picture they were painting.
Michael had shown interest once, early on, before everything else hardened and shifted. Now he was just a friend. A steady presence. Someone who brought soup and waited politely at doorways.
And Malcolm—
She did not know how to name what Malcolm was to her.
Or what she Is to him.
Ester was not done.
"Oh no," she said, barely holding it in now. "What’s ridiculous is how Malcolm scared half the hospital staff."
Mary snorted, folding her arms. "Scared is generous. Two nurses asked for leave."
Iyisha blinked. "What."
Ester giggled outright. "I’m serious. One of them said she could feel him watching even when he wasn’t in the room."
Mary shook her head, amused despite herself. "He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t threaten anyone. He just stood there. Watching. Like the floor belonged to him. The director avoided this floor."
Iyisha laughed, a soft breathy sound, disbelief mixing with something warmer. "He didn’t mean to," she said, though she was smiling now. "He’s just like that."
"Protective," Ester offered, then wrinkled her nose. "No. That word doesn’t fit."
Mary glanced toward the window, expression shifting, humor fading into something quieter. "Whatever it is," she said, "it’s intense."
Ester followed her gaze.
Silence enveloped them as they look out the window.
"The snow’s stopped falling."
Iyisha’s smile slowly faded as the weight of that settled in.
"That means winter’s breaking," Mary continued. "Routes will open. People will start moving again."
"And you’ll be leaving," Ester said softly.
Iyisha lay there listening to the steady sounds of the hospital, the place that had held her together when her body nearly gave up, and thought of the community beyond these walls, of the people who would stay behind, of Mary and Ester and everyone who would keep this place breathing long after she moved on.
"Soon," she said.
Outside, the light was steady. No snow falling. No storm pressing down.
Only the quiet certainty that winter was loosening its grip, and that she would have to step forward again, carrying what she had survived with her into whatever came next.
