That afternoon, a storm had rolled through the city. Rain hammered against the windows, and thunder echoed through the halls. By the time Lila slipped back inside, she was soaked through—mud clung to her shoes, her hands, even streaked across her face.
Security was distracted. Nurses rushed between rooms.
And the door to Room 701… was slightly open.
Lila paused for a moment, her heart beating fast. She knew she wasn’t supposed to go in.
But something pulled her forward.
Quietly, she slipped inside.
The room was dim, filled with the soft rhythm of machines. Jonathan Whitaker lay exactly as he always had—pale, motionless, untouched by the years passing around him.
Lila stepped closer, her small footsteps barely making a sound.
She stood beside his bed and stared at him for a long time.
“My grandma was like this once,” she whispered, her voice soft and uncertain in the stillness. “Everyone said she was gone… but I knew she could hear me.”
She climbed carefully onto the chair next to him, gripping the edge as she leaned closer.
“They talk about you like you’re not here,” she said gently. “Like you already left.”
Her voice trembled slightly.
“That must feel really lonely.”
For a moment, she just sat there, listening to the steady beep of the monitor. It sounded so cold… so distant.
Then she reached into her pocket.
Inside, she had a handful of wet earth—dark, soft, still carrying the smell of rain. She had scooped it up outside without really thinking, the way she used to when she was younger, when the world felt simpler.
Slowly, carefully, she rubbed the mud onto her fingers.
Then onto her face.
Across her cheeks. Her forehead. The bridge of her nose.
“Don’t be mad,” she murmured, glancing at him as if he might answer. “My grandma used to say the earth remembers us… even when people forget.”
Her small hand hovered for a second.
Then she gently touched his.
It was cold. Still.
But she didn’t pull away.
“You’re not gone,” she whispered. “You just forgot how to come back.”
At that exact moment, the door burst open.
“HEY! What are you doing?!”
A nurse stood frozen in the doorway, horror spreading across her face.
Within seconds, chaos followed.
Security rushed in. Voices rose. Lila jumped back, terrified, her hands trembling as they grabbed her.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—” she cried, tears mixing with the mud on her face.
They pulled her out, her apologies echoing down the hallway.