Just as Richard was about to resign himself once more to the inevitable wait, something happened.

A twitch. Emily’s finger moved, almost imperceptibly, but enough to catch the eye of a vigilant father. Richard leaned forward, not daring to breathe. Then, before his disbelieving eyes, Emily’s eyelids fluttered, as if roused by the gentlest of breezes. Her eyes slowly opened, unfocused at first, then locking onto her father’s tear-filled gaze.

“Dad?” she croaked, her voice raspy from disuse.