There was a silence in the hospital side room that was like no other. It was marred occasionally by the slight snuffle from Eloise Grantham as she had, despite wanting to stay awake, slipped into a troubled sleep; she needed the child in the bed to open his eyes, to begin his journey back to health, to prove that the awful car smash wouldn’t take his life. Both the nurse and the grandmother missed the first visible signs of awakening from the young boy. Josiah Grantham’s eyes twitched before opening, then flickered, then closed again. It was enough for the moment.
