Mark’s face darkened, a flicker of doubt crossing his expression. His new wife, Sarah, peeked in from the hallway, her eyes darting between us, sensing the tension. I couldn’t let them dismiss this as the ramblings of a grief-stricken old woman. Anna’s life hung in the balance, and I owed it to her to fight for the truth.

“We need to involve the police,” I insisted. “They need to investigate her car. If Anna’s right, whoever did this is still out there.”

Mark hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Mom, you’re asking us to believe that Anna communicated with you in a coma. That’s… that’s a lot.”