The air in the hospital room felt heavier than usual.
Outside the window, clouds gathered like they were holding something in. Inside, the machines beeped steadily, a quiet reminder that life — or something close to it — still moved through the girl lying unconscious on the bed.
Mira sat near the window, one leg pulled to her chest, staring at her sister's still body. Her mother was asleep in the chair, her hands wrapped tightly around a rosary.
Zac had gone home earlier with a neighbor. The doctors had done all they could — IVs, oxygen, scans — but they still had no real explanation.
"Unresponsive but stable," they said.
But Mira knew the truth was far from medical.
She had seen her sister glow.
She had seen the way the light wrapped around her skin like it remembered something Addie had forgotten.
And then… the feather.
Mira looked over at the pendant still hanging around Addie's neck. It was quiet now. No glow. No strange pulse. Just a simple feather on a silver chain.
But she knew better.
Something happened.
And it wasn't over yet.
---
Suddenly, Addie's fingers twitched.
Mira shot up. "Addie?"
Her heart pounded. She moved closer. "Addie — can you hear me?"
Another twitch.
Then a soft, painful groan escaped her sister's lips.
Addie's eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused at first, then shifting toward the ceiling as if trying to remember where she was.
Mira gasped. "MOM! She's awake!"
Their mother jerked up, blinking away sleep. "Addie?"
Addie turned her head slightly, her lips dry and cracked.
"Water…" she whispered.
Mira grabbed the glass from the table and helped her take a few small sips.
Addie winced. Her whole body ached like it had fought a war she couldn't remember.
"W-What happened?" she mumbled.
"You fainted," Mira said gently. "You had… a seizure. That's what the doctors said. But…"
Addie looked at her sister. Mira's eyes were too sharp, too focused. There was something unspoken behind them.
"What do you mean 'but'?"
Mira hesitated. Her mother stepped out to call the doctor, leaving them alone.
"I saw it," Mira said softly. "The light. You… glowed, Addie. You were burning like some kind of… angel."
Addie's throat tightened.
A flash of silver.
The man's face.
The child's voice: "Mommy, I miss you."
Tears welled up in her eyes before she understood why.
"I saw something too," she whispered.
Mira leaned in. "What?"
Addie closed her eyes. "A man. White hair. Eyes like… crystal water. He said he was my husband."
Mira froze.
Addie looked down at her hands. "He said my real name is Seraphielle. That I came from… a different world."
She started to shake. "And… that I have a daughter."
Her voice broke on the last word.
Mira grabbed her hand quickly. "Hey. I believe you."
Addie looked up, surprised.
"I don't know how or why," Mira continued, "but I believe everything. I saw it too. And it wasn't normal. I knew it the moment the feather turned to dust in my hand."
Addie let out a shaky breath. "It wasn't just a dream, Mira. I felt it. I stood there. I could feel the air, the stars, the cold…"
"I believe you," Mira repeated.
Addie squeezed her sister's hand. For the first time in what felt like years, she didn't feel crazy. Just… scared.
"But what does it mean?" she whispered.
Mira shook her head. "I don't know. But we'll figure it out together."
---
The doctor came in ten minutes later and was shocked to find Addie awake and talking. He asked questions. Shined a light in her eyes. Checked her pulse. Took her blood pressure again.
"She seems stable," he said. "Better than stable. Honestly, we were worried."
Addie just nodded. She didn't have the energy to explain anything. What could she even say?
That she had fallen from another world? That her body had remembered magic?
That her heart missed a child she didn't know?
---
That night, the hospital was quieter. Mira had gone home to grab clothes. Their mom was asleep again, too exhausted to stay awake.
Addie lay alone under the pale lights, staring at the ceiling.
Her mind wandered back to the man's voice.
> "You must come back."
"Your daughter needs you."
"You were betrayed…"
Her hands began to tremble again.
She remembered the way his fingers touched her face so gently. Like someone who had waited lifetimes. Someone who had watched her fall and couldn't stop it.
She brought the pendant to her lips.
"Who are you?" she whispered into the air. "And why does my heart… know you?"
---
Somewhere far above, in a realm untouched by Earthly time, the silver-haired man stood in front of a glowing gate.
He closed his eyes.
"She's awake," he said softly.
A small voice echoed in the wind behind him.
> "Mommy?"
He turned.
There stood a little girl — pale gold hair, large tearful eyes — holding a tiny stuffed animal.
"Is she coming?" she asked.
He knelt down and held her close.
"She will," he whispered.
"She just needs time."