WWGD

Karina did as she was told.

She stayed beside her grandmother.

The hours passed in a strangely. Marked only by the steady beep of machines and the slow rise and fall of her grandmother’s chest. Karina sat beside Winona’s bed, fingers wrapped around the old woman’s hand, afraid that if she let go, something might pull her away again.

She couldn’t sleep nor eat. She rested in fragments.

Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw fog curling at the edges of her thoughts. So she kept them open and watched her grandmother breathe.

By late afternoon, Winona stirred.

Just a little twitch of fingers, a soft sound in her throat. Her brow furrowed, then smoothed again.

Karina was startled fully awake.

‘You’re okay!’ Karina whispered as she caressed her grandmother’s forehead.

‘You’re going to be okay.’ She said once more.

She stayed still another hour after that. Maybe two. Time felt unreliable.

Eventually, after a few more small movements from Winona, the tightness in Karina’s limbs eased. Strength returned in cautious waves. And with it came curiosity edged with guilt.

Karina glanced toward the glass partition across the hall.

Grandma is alive because of him.

The boy’s room was quiet. The curtain was drawn partway back now, revealing more of the bed. He hadn’t moved. Or maybe he had, and she’d missed it.

Her heart thudded. I should.. check on him too…

She stood, smoothing her shirt, then sat back down again. Her gaze flicked toward the doorway, then back to her grandmother.

‘I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, though Winona was still asleep.

Karina stepped into the hallway and stopped immediately.

She hovered there, caught between rooms. The white corridor stretching out like a crossroads.

Maybe it’s fine if I don’t say hi. I can just send flowers….

Footsteps echoed at the far end of the hall. A nurse was approaching.

Panic flared. Karina’s body moved before her mind caught up. She slipped into the nearest open doorway.

The boy’s room.

Oh no… Why was I acting so guilty..

The door closed softly behind her.

What have I done…

The air inside felt warmer somehow. And it was dimmer too, as though the light refused to settle properly.

Karina stood frozen in the dark corner for several seconds, half-expecting someone to tell her she wasn’t allowed in here.

No one did. She wasn’t noticed at all.

Ok… I am here now.. She took one step closer. Still no reaction from anyone. Nurse in the hallway or the boy on the bed. Another step. And another. Until she reached his bedside fully.

The boy lay exactly as before, all bandaged and pale, his long lashes dark against his innocent looking cheeks. Up close, the scars and bruises looked older than they should have been. All already fading at the edges, as if time moved differently for him.

Karina compared her own bruises to his. I’m probably just slow…

She reached for his hand. He’s very warm..

Her fingers trembled as she curled them around his. She very careful, afraid she might wake him up. Or worse, that he might not wake at all.

‘Thank you… For helping my grandma. For… for everything.’ she whispered. And me…

For a moment, she thought his fingers tightened around hers. Then footsteps approached outside the room.

Karina stiffened. Oh no. I shouldn’t be making trouble for myself and my grandma.

Voices followed.

She withdrew her hand quickly and backed away, slipping toward the door just as it opened a fraction.

She froze in the shadowed corner of the room as a doctor and a nurse stopped just outside, their voices carrying easily.

‘I’m telling you, it doesn’t make sense. These wounds should not be closing this fast.’ The doctor said.

The nurse replied quietly, ‘I checked the charts twice. No experimental treatment. No explanation.’

‘His vitals stabilized overnight. By morning, it was like his body decided it was done being injured.’ the doctor continued.

‘That’s not normal.’

‘No, and I don’t like it.’

Karina’s pulse roared in her ears.

‘We may need to report this. Police, maybe someone higher up. Cases like this don’t just… happen.’ The doctor said.

The nurse hesitated. ‘He doesn’t have a record. No ID. Nothing. If we escalate—‘

‘We have to,’ the doctor said. ‘Someone will want to know what he is.’

Karina’s stomach dropped. “What he is”?

The words echoed.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Every instinct screamed danger. Surprisingly, not from the boy, but from the world that was beginning to notice him.

She waited until their footsteps faded down the hall then slipped out of the room, and returned to her grandmother’s bedside. What would grandma do?