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A breath of fresh air...that's what she needed.

Uma paced in front of the hospital entrance, her clothes displaying the tell-tale signs of her overnight stay. The same formal suit, now looking crumpled, her jacket long since abandoned in the boot of her car. She stepped down small concrete steps, her white shirt radiating the sun's light.

Her body ached. A cramp developed last night, when she fell asleep in her chair by Donnie's side, only to be woken by the nurses on their morning shift. Donnie remained in his sleepless rest. However, he'd been moved to better accommodation. Some luck at last.

Day two, Uma reminded herself, day two of...how many?

“UMA!"

Huh?

A voice from afar: “Uma! Over here!"

She scanned the grounds for the source of the call. Then, she found it — a woman hurrying towards her, clad in a grey dress that flowed with her gallop. She arrived quickly, startling the poor mother.

“Hey Uma." the lady said, out-of-breath.

“Hey...you," Uma responded, her mind blanking on this new presence.

The stranger picked up on her ignorance. “Kianna. We met a few years ago. Tony's party, 'member?"

“Yes!" Uma snapped her fingers. “Yes, I do now. You're his cousin right?"

“Distant cousin," she remarked, performing a playful curtsey, “not that I'm insulted you forgot about me."

“Oh no, I didn't want to give that impression!"

“Don't worry. Even if I was annoyed you've worse things on your mind." Kianna leaned in close, her voice shrinking to a whisper: “I only just heard! Gods, what a mess..."

“You heard about Donnie?"

“Listen..." her hands reached out to Uma in a comforting touch laid upon her shoulders, “...I wanted to swing by...since I was in the area...see how you were doing? Yeah?"

“Okay. That's kind of you." How did she find out?

Ignoring her puzzlement, Kianna twirled around 'till she was side-by-side with Uma.

“You must be beside yourself."

Kianna's overt familiarity annoyed Uma. Who exactly was she to show up unannounced and act like they were old friends? Catching her tongue before she let her dissatisfaction be known, Uma asked for some time to herself. Kianna didn't listen, or — if Uma's senses were a bit sharper she would have noticed this — chose not to acknowledge her request. “There's a lot I've probably missed. We must catch up." She began to doubt her own feelings. Maybe it was the stress...the nerves...

“Let's find someplace to sit. There must be a seating area nearby. We can chat. Would you like that?"

* * *

Uma and Kianna held conversation over mid-morning coffee. The thirty-eight-year-old Kianna bore quite a striking appearance that Uma was never fully acquainted with in their prior, fleeting meetings. She was slim, her dress hugged her figure well, model-like with signs of exercise giving her an athletic flair. Uma — though near the same age — carried a motherly frame, rounded whilst not excessive. What she wouldn't give to drop a pound or two, eh? Then again, Uma liked her soft looks. Kianna was too distinguished; the best example of this were her eyes: grey-blue with a hint of amethyst. Knowing her they were probably stylish contacts. Uma took care of herself and enjoyed looking good, but she never saw the need to go so far. Even their hair displayed the difference between them. Uma: moderate length and her natural colour. Kianna: long brown hair that trailed all the way down her back, covering her rear. The colour was very strong, too strong. She reckoned there was a bottle half-empty on a shower tray with that woman's name on it. Or maybe it seemed darker because of her tanned complexion?

They made small talk. Looks weren't a topic of conversation, though Uma mentally sized her up, and no doubt Kianna did the same. Greetings and pleasantries were followed by discussion on the reason Uma was outside the hospital a nervous wreck.

“Tony should be arriving later."

Kianna sipped her drink. “How is the trouble between you?"

“I'm sorry, trouble? What do you—"

“Uma dear, it's written all over your face when you talk. Should we change the subject?"

“No need. Tony and I...it's nothing," she stammered.

“Nothing...?"

Uma groaned. “Nothing I can't handle alone." Now Kianna knew about her marital trouble! How on Earth does she do it? Uma wondered. She's ahead of me wherever I go. There was no sense in allowing this odd woman greater access to her personal life. But she needed to let her down gently. From the few times they'd met before Kianna stuck on sore topics all too frequently, and it was very hard to steer her away from them. That one time at her husband's fortieth birthday party was enough to make her gag. Oh and her personal life! Endless waffling about her personal life. No-one in their right mind wanted to hear about the latest craze she'd gotten herself into.

The best distraction Uma could come up with, as she drank her coffee — enduring the burning sensation it provided as it travelled through her — was to divert to another piece of important news:

“This couldn't have come at a worse time."

“Something big happening?" Kianna inched towards her, clanging her chair on the pavement. New gossip to sink her teeth into! Uma hoped it would do the job.

“We're moving house."

“You are?" Kianna feigned surprise, “that's big news!" Uma breathed a sigh of relief once she felt her companion was sufficiently sated by their topic of conversation. “Wow!" Kianna smiled, a dullness to her cadence, a greyness that made her come across world-weary. Her response felt by-the-numbers. Her thirst remained.

“Yeah. Moving out-of-town. Our current place isn't in the nicest part of the city, as you can probably guess from—"

“Gods, it's about time! I don't see your husband much...not exactly on the best terms with the rest of my family...but c'mon! I though he was gonna take you away a long time ago."

Uma forced her mouth to curve into a depressed grin. “I thought that too. That was the plan...originally. Buy a nice plot of land, build a house, retire, relax. Seems he had...other concerns."

Kianna swatted her hand. “Lets not dwell. Doesn't help a soul. Your son's in pain, and you need all the support you can get." Uma looked at the table, their cardboard cups mostly empty — hers still steaming, never given the chance to cool properly before she downed it. She watched Kianna's hand crawl across the divide, curling around her own. Underneath it slid, until her palm rested over it.

Kianna moved closer, leaning over the table. Uma crossed her arms, a sense of nakedness manifesting, like those eyes of hers were mentally stripping her. “Where are you going?" They were locked in place, staring at each other. Her soul exposed for Kianna's pleasure.

Wind blew in a sudden gust through the area, causing Uma's heart to skip. Her fright along with the surprise of the rushing air put her on edge. “Huh?" she asked.

Kianna's voice went quiet. “Your new house. Where will it be? I can guess, but I'm too good at it. I want you to tell me." Her fingers circled tightly around Uma's hand.

“Uh, hello...let go of my hand Kianna," Uma said.

The other woman refused. She felt her nails dig in.

What the fuck is wrong with her?

“C'mon Uma. Where are you going?"

“Stop it!" Uma pulled her arm back, breaking Kianna's intense gaze. “Are you deaf? I told you to let go."

Kianna changed in an instant. Doe-eyed regret exuded from every inch of her. “Gods! I'm sorry. I wasn't paying atten—oh that was a terrible way for me to act! Shit," she cursed, examining the hand she'd recently clutched with vicious need, “I haven't cut you or anything...?"

“No."

“Sorry-sorry-sorry. I get like that. Single-minded. Y'know, not seeing the woods for the trees, hah!"

“Yeah well watch what you're squeezing next time," Uma huffed.

Kianna threw up her arms in a casual gesture of surrender. “Will do. Hands to myself," she chuckled, dismissing Uma's concern.

Uma adjusted her skirt. She was done with this meeting after that freaky display. “I've had fun catching up with you, Kianna, but I should go." She tried to stand up, but Kianna jumped back into the fray.

“No wait please! I didn't get an answer!"

What is her deal? Uma rolled her eyes and sat down again. Easy there, just tell her what she wants to hear.

“Carlyle. We're moving to Carlyle. I've visited the property and had the whole thing inspected, the paperwork's filled out, realtor's satisfied, bank's happy. Should be good for us," Uma's attention wandered as she talked, “the fresh air, the community...should help, once he's awake..." She remembered Donnie, bringing her worries to the forefront of her mind.

“Wait! You're moving there!? Why...we'll practically be neighbours. I've a house in the woods next to the interstate." Kianna's surprise sounded fake, until the very end when her spirits perked at the mention of her home.

Great, Uma thought, more of this.

“Don't visit too often!" Uma joked, her tone cagey, almost ruining her facade. Kianna laughed in polite response. “I'd like to see your house when you move in. You could arrange that, hmm?" Her tone lowered, becoming guttural — seductive. “I'm sorry for overstepping my bounds, but I'd love to visit. Would that be okay?" her words were laced with honey. A solitary tingle ran down Uma's spine; she was captured by Kianna's charm. It came down upon her, a mist in her mind, clouding her prior judgement.

Uma nodded.

There was a pause as Kianna reclined — a warm, friendly expression on her face. Uma sighed, feeling relaxed. Feeling...enchanted.

Well this is nice. She's weird, but the non-threatening kinda weird. Enjoyable in small doses. Her opinion danced between friendly and frigid, warming whenever Kianna gave her a look. Yeah, she thought, in hindsight it wouldn't be too bad—

Crap! Her inner monologue was interrupted by a torrent of common sense. If she lives in the same town we're heading to...

Uma absolutely did not want to put up with her. What was she thinking!?

“I can come see him if you'd like."

“Who—Donnie? If that's what you want."

“It'd be nice. The two of us can just sit beside him. And hope. And pray...do you pray?"

“Not really."

“Oh well, neither do I," she giggled, “not in the way you'd think. Speaking of..."

Uma frowned.

“...I've got something that'll help."

Kianna reached into her dress, producing a small silver pendant. It hung from a thin chain, smooth-surfaced apart from faint scratches on its finish. She dangled it in front of Uma, extending her arms across the table. The shiny metal glowed in the sun's rays.

“Here," she said, prompting Uma to offer an outstretched palm.

“What is it?" The jewellery was placed carefully in her open hand. Kianna closed Uma's fingers over it. The atmosphere of the conversation had been rapidly shifting in the strange woman's favour. Uma was following her lead. This only sealed the deal.

“A little piece of my 'magic', you might say."

“Would I say that?"

“Well, if you believe the kinda things I believe..."

“Kianna, I know you're into this mystical stuff — I got an earful last time at Tony's birthday — but I'm just waiting for my son to recover."

“Oh I know! And it's so horrible what you're going through. But in my experience you don't want to go through it solo. You need help."

“Help? A shrink? Therapy?"

“Well no, not exactly...ugh, I'm not making a good impression on you. Look at the talisman I gave you."

“Huh?"

“Just look at it!"

“Alright."

Uma stared at the hanging pendant, its silvery surface gleaming in the light. She squinted to get a better look. Kianna spoke over her as she studied it: “whenever feelings of grief and guilt get too much, imagine yourself pouring those hurtful feelings, that part of your damaged soul into this," she pointed to the metallic tear-drop. Uma held it aloft, watching the pendant sway in the breeze.

“Uh-huh."

“Keep at it, keep pouring all the bad inside...and soon there'll be a new you in place of the old, living your life, wearing your clothes, loving your children — without the pain that's weighing you down."

“That...sounds too good to be true," Uma laughed, ignoring how serious Kianna made herself sound. “I suppose it's some sorta self-therapy aid. Like a stress ball?" She really was guessing at this point, and her prospective neighbour's peculiar beliefs weren't clearing up any of the confusion.

“Yeah. Something like that. When you do what I suggest, close your eyes and wish for Donald's safe recovery."

If Uma was more in tune with the direction their conversation was close to turning, she'd have paid attention to subtle changes in Kianna's features. Instead, she missed the predatory glimmer in her violet-tinged eyes, her focus elsewhere...on the pendant...Kianna's gift...

“Kianna, your jewellery is very sweet — I appreciate the gesture — but I'm not into spiritual stuff. I come from a Lutheran family, so I'm not keen to have another overbearing supernatural influence in my life."

Kianna burst into laughter. “I'm not asking you to do anything specific, just what feels natural to you. Believe me, when it comes to matters beyond our mortal reality, all those 'supernatural' influences seem to blend together more and more. You mistake one for the other."

“Okay, well thanks, both for the words of support and the...uh, 'magic' necklace."

“You're welcome," she beamed, “but don't call it magic. It's more of a pact." That last part was whispered.

“Sorry?"

Kianna curled her mouth into a saccharine smile. “Nothing important." She ran fingers through her long flowing hair and let it fall behind her. “Just answer me this: what would you do to keep your family safe and healthy?"

“Everything. Something." Uma shook her head. “I would sell my soul!" she snorted.

Kianna glanced at her watch — a dainty copper-trimmed timepiece with a soft velvet strap. Uma barely noticed it was there at all. The watch-face was so tiny!

“Oh is that the time?" Kianna pushed her chair out from the table. “So sorry, must say goodbye!"

Uma rose to see her off. They stepped away from their seats. Kianna moved close, her neck craning to reach Uma, who reckoned she was about to receive a kiss on the cheek. Of course Kianna would go for that, she evidently had a penchant for flamboyant farewells! This was Kianna we're talking about, the black sheep of the Marquesez bloodline. Uma might've known.

Although despite eccentric expectations, Uma was wrong. Kianna instead planted one straight on the lips, pressing her mouth to Uma's and supporting her kiss with her hands gently holding the back of her head. Breaking the kiss, Uma was left shocked and surprised. Thank God no-one was around to see that, she reassured herself amid her turmoil, don't know how I'd explain it!

Kianna waved. “Ciao," she said, turning on her heel and strolling off.

“I owe you one!" Uma shouted to the retreating figure. I think.

Hang on...she said she wanted to come with me. So wait...she just showed up for a chat and all I got out of it was a kooky necklace!?

“I—"

Time ticked on. Time she spent dawdling.

I...need to check on Donnie...

* * *

Donnie had been moved from the main ward to a private room in Intensive Care as the hospital cycled incoming patients, affording everyone involved a meagre amount of privacy. It was a welcome upgrade, as hours spent watching him lie there, hooked up to machines, frequently brought Uma to tears.

Jacob, Mikey, and Cynthia had stayed home since last night. Calls were made back-and-forth. She believed Jacob mentioned he might come in to see her and Donnie before the day's end. The kids were in an okay place now. The heartbreak had settled, and they were prepared to support their brother no matter what. A day away from home meant Uma wasn't on top of developments between the siblings — and she knew they could squabble. She hadn't received a phone call from one of them complaining about another, so she took her time to rest and collect her thoughts.

And Tony. He was due.

I gotta at least try to fix my marriage...though that's not likely.

The iciness of their break-up was as raw as ever. That man had the gall to start and affair under her nose! He had a taste for blondes. That slutty secretary of his with beach-blonde hair and her excitable absence of personality. On visits to his job she was always trying to suck up to her. Behind that false friendliness hindsight gave her the ability to see the scorn that'd been masked. Hate burned as if a fiery poker had been stabbed through her heart, and Uma dreamed of an opportunity to do something physical (not metaphorical) of a similar magnitude to Brittany Beauvix.

He exchanged me for a newer model, why should we try to repair our relationship? She mulled the question over in her head. Who cares? I exchanged him for—

Uma caught herself, a rush of ugliness bubbling up from within. No...I can't fall for him again...we've both made mistakes.

True. But hers was a mistake nobody, bar one, was aware of.

Tony arrived past noon. Her husband cleaned up well, though she saw the toll of his long car journey plastered over his weary exterior. An uncomfortable silence occupied the room, weighing heavily on both of them in their current confines. He'd be an idiot to play dumb. If there was any chance Uma would let the subject slide...that was a big ask since she walked in on Brittany straddling him in the office, his flesh deep inside hers.

He closed the door behind him, and approached Uma with a neutral expression.

“How is she?"

Tony grimaced. “I haven't seen her recently."

“Good."

“How..." Tony gulped, “how is he doin'?" Pointing to Donnie, he drew the focus away from himself.

“No news. Same as yesterday."

“Oh. I see."

As Tony knelt by his son's side, Uma closed her eyes. He was the last person she wanted in her life anymore, but she was too emotionally defeated to go through with a divorce. How could she? One tragedy after another — that's what the kids would see. Except Jacob.

“Listen," Uma raised her voice, “we can talk about it another time."

“I...we will," he dropped any attempt at defending his actions. Taking the opportunity to share in his wife's grief.

They remained together in silence for a while. Tony rubbed his leaking eyes. A hearty sniff echoed through the room, pierced only by the humming of hospital machinery. He stood up, extending a hand to his wife. She accepted the momentary olive branch, holding him, feeling his warmth as she dragged her thumb across his aged knuckles. Uma bade him a curt farewell.

“I'll make sure the dog is fed." He headed out.

* * *

Waiting. Interminable waiting.

Uma's head drifted to one side, her body crying out for rest. It was the early evening. Tony had come and gone. Donnie remained as motionless as the bed he lay upon. The boredom was killing her! Now that the flood of misery had passed, the attack becoming a fixture in her memory rather than a raw and real event, she felt her energy disappear. Night and day by her son's side let her waste away. No proper sleep. Minimal food. Just stress and anguish fuelling her vigil.

Waiting.

Her neck was exposed by her nodding head as sleep tried to wrest control of her. Swaying gently, until her head fell to one side. Uma woke up, zapped into a confused state. She soon realised she had nothing to worry about. She craved a place to sleep — that's all. Looking at Donnie, she smiled, and felt a touch of jealousy for his comfortable bed. How she wished she could just go home and slide under the covers...

Uma felt shame. Shame that she'd so quickly abandoned her grief. What was she thinking? Envying a god-damn hospital bed!? I can't fall sleep in this chair again, she argued with herself, I'm gonna fuck up my spine!

Listen to yourself! Donnie's hurt. And you're thinking about back pain?

I know. Won't change a thing.

...

I need a distraction...

Uma withdrew the necklace she'd been given from her pocket. Kianna's pendant. Her gift.

What was it she said...pour my feelings into it? Yeah...sounds about right...

She did as she was told. Staring at the little metal sliver Uma imagined herself gathering up her emotions. Flowers in a field all of her own creation. The bad ones withering, turning black and dead — the negatives: grief and guilt. Act fast or lose the rest to their poison , her mind warned her. A tired Uma let her imagination run wild, freed by her tip-toeing next to the precipice of sleep. Dreaming, she picked the bad flowers. Lots of them needed picking. Lots and lots.

Every other time she closed her eyes Uma was transported between worlds. The dour room that housed her son and the endless meadow swapped places over and over. Now she was here. Now she was there. Repeated ad nauseam.

Her day-dreaming was interrupted by a moment of lucidity. Uma rubbed her temples, the necklace chain striking her chin as it swung erratically. She felt better. Not great...but on the way up.

Hey, maybe there's method in her madness, she thought. Kianna probably told her all this to make her feel better. It's just a dumb necklace. T __alisman? Whatever she called it.

“Heh," Uma snickered.

God I need some sleep. What time is it?

She checked the clock on the wall. Barely any time had passed. Three minutes, if she was being generous.

Okay, I'm not going anywhere...let's try this some more. No TV in this room, I might as well...

She focused on the pendant, forming an impromptu routine. Catch a few winks, then focus on those feelings, then catch some more. It wasn't fun, but Uma found it growing on her. She hadn't found herself thinking about Donnie, the family, or her husband. She finally managed to find some me-time, albeit strangely.

The mind-meadow was having a calming influence on her. It did feel therapeutic, metaphorically collecting bad emotions. She saw herself tossing bundles of dead flowers onto a pile, clumping them all together in one place so the rest of her was free of their influence.

Stepping forward, she tripped, falling into the pile. Suddenly, her peaceful world was turned upside-down as she tumbled into a dark void.

The meadow vanished. In its place was the hospital exterior. Colourless. Uma glanced down and discovered she was seated back at the patio table, an empty cup sitting in front of her. She'd fallen asleep now, she was sure of it. Her dream was taking over.

“How's Donnie?" a disembodied voice asked. Uma looked around but not a soul was there.

“How's Mikey?" It was Kianna's voice, she realised. It grew clearer and clearer, yet it sounded distant.

“How's Cynthia?"

“What?" Uma asked the empty dream-scape.

“How's Jacob?" Kianna appeared on the far side of the table, materialising in the blink of an eye. This was a dream version of her. It was hard to discern facial features. Uma hadn't known her for that long to remember exactly what she looked like. All the key aspects were there, and she had the same expression on her face when they met in reality. Same, but incomplete.

“Hello."

“You didn't answer my question."

“Which one?"

“Jacob. How is he?"

Uma winced. “Why do you care?" How does she know to ask? Her mind raced. She quelled her panic by telling herself this was in her head. This wasn't actually Kianna. You're just exhausted...let it play out...

“You must be proud. Having such a grown-up and handsome son like him. Does he work out?"

I'm not gonna engage with this, she told herself, ordering her subconscious to behave.

“I can tell." Kianna winked. Well, not-Kianna...it was getting hard to separate the truth from fiction. “I can tell you like that about him. Almost as much as any other girl."

Okay I'm done here. Wake up please.

“I can feel your heart—"

The current scene disappeared unexpectedly. Her chair dissolved. Uma was falling — once more hurtling through the empty space. One word echoed through the darkness, pursuing her: throb. The last snippet of her mind's teasing.

“I can feel your heart throb."

I can feel your heart throb...

The descent stopped, and Uma pictured herself waking up. Had she woken up? She couldn't tell. Donnie's room appeared normal. She stood up.

“Hel—" Uma lost her words when she noticed the inky-black threads emerging from the walls. They came, shadowy tendrils, from the floor, the door, the ceiling, even...Donnie's bed. Surrounding her comatose son they crept around his still form, rising up into the air, pulled by invisible means towards her.

Uma stepped back. The chair clattered. She spun round and cried out. Those...things were coming for her! She looked down. And then, she saw it:

Kianna's gift. It'd shifted position from being clasped within her hand to worn around her neck. In the confusion Uma couldn't tell if she'd put it on before falling asleep. She didn't think so. There it was anyway, sitting right above her breast. The walls creaked, bending as the tendrils came closer. The room shuddered. The first of the ghostly strings poked at her clothes, taking a stab at her shoulder, navigating its way to the pendant. When contact was made, it disappeared inside, drawn into the jewellery. More tendrils came. They suffered the same fate. It soon dawned on her that those were the feelings Kianna wouldn't keep her trap shut about...shame, grief, guilt...negative emotions that only served to grow inside a person, cursing them into a cycle of depression and self-hatred — and they were gathering in the pendant.

There were many. More than plain sadness. She realised what they represented...

Guilt. Her guilt. Why did she feel so guilty? She hadn't done anything. Why did she keep thinking it was her fault Donnie got hurt?

Well...she knew the superstitious answer...deep inside her...it wasn't something she could talk about...

Karma for what happened between her and him.

The pendant kept pulling it all in. All the darkness, sucking it from the surroundings, from her. The distraught mother collapsed by her son's side.

Please get better Donnie! Please! I said I'd do whatever it takes...I'll do even more! I'll pray! I haven't prayed in a long time but I will now! God...please...Donnie...someone...

“Some—" Uma spoke out loud, quickly stopping herself as the room cleared. She was awake. Back in the chair by Donnie's side. She checked the clock, but her vision was too blurry in the wake of her revival. The room looked eerily like the one she was just trapped in, minus the ghostly tendrils. Outside was dark. Dusk had arrived.

Kianna's gift was back in her hand, not on her neck. That fact helped confirm that she was awake at last. When her vision cleared she read the clock. Hours had passed. Hours missing from her day. I couldn't have spent it staring at this? C-could I? she wondered, fondling the pendant, pressing her thumb against it.

It was probably the light...but the lines that marred its otherwise pristine surface were clearer.

She stood up. For real this time. No nightmarish visions. She sighed, relieved.

I need a stiff drink. Soon.

* * *

Uma returned to the room after a bathroom break, a mild headache in tow. A drink sounded about right, though she didn't want to leave Donnie, not even after a whole night with him. It felt plain wrong. “Hey sweetie, sorry for wigging out on you," she laughed as she entered, talking to her captive audience of one. “I'm not in the best place right now." She reached out and held his hand, tenderly touching his fingers. “Not your fault though. You're the victim here. I'm just along for the ride!"

Slowly but surely the memory of her encounter with Kianna changed. The conversation, the dream...chunks of what happened vanished. What would you do to keep your family safe and healthy? What a stupid question. Everything, of course! That question, like the rest, was lost. Uma gave little thought to what those words meant.

What would you do to keep your family safe and healthy?

Everything. Something. I would sell my soul.

What she didn't understand, what she couldn't understand at the time, was that she already did.

From the periphery of her vision she saw it happen. Donnie's left hand twitched. A minuscule movement, but it was real! The slightest curl of his finger...

Uma's eyes widened.

Oh shit! That's good right? He's waking up!

Uma searched the room desperately. The entire day's events transformed in an instant.

Where's the button for the doctors? How do I get them up here?

* * *

“How is he?" Uma watched the attending doctor examine her son. Fortunately, he hadn't stopped twitching every so often, so there was plenty of evidence to support her summoning of them.

“He was brought in yesterday morning, right?" Uma nodded. “That means he's been unconscious for twenty-seven hours give or take. Activity at this point doesn't guarantee him waking up, but it's promising," he continued.

“That's a relief."

“Don't count chickens yet Mrs. Eriksson. I don't want to be the one to get your hopes up and have them dashed when nothing improves."

“Oh...well what do you think? Will he come out of it soon?"

“Like I said, optimism's great an' all, but keep it tempered. I will say, however, he could wake some time in the next two days. If he does, we'll need him in a bit longer for observation. And the remainder of his physical injuries need to be checked on. It's not the most severe comatose state I've seen in my career, so I can't tell what the lack of oxygen to his brain might entail. If we're lucky, there won't be long-time damage."

“Thank you," Uma said, feeling happy for the first time in a while.

“I'll leave you with him."

The doctor left Uma with Donnie, and some much-needed good news. She couldn't bear another day of seeing him this way; if there was hope he might improve then she'd seize it and never let it go.

Her phone vibrated. Jacob was calling. Brushing aside the weirdness from earlier, she answered. “Hey mom," his voice came in crisp.

“Jacob honey, hi. W-where are you?"

“In the lobby, I've just arrived."

“You are?"

“Yeah. Said I would come back, 'member?"

“Yep, sorry..." Uma breathed, “I've got some news."

“Oh?"

“Better I say it in person."

* * *

Several minutes passed while Uma waited for Jacob to reach her. The door opened and in he walked. “You had something to tell me, mom?"

Uma bit her lip. She didn't want to spread false hope, given the doctor's warning. But she couldn't help it, she had a feeling she was right.

“Donnie might be waking up soon."

“Are you kidding!?" Jacob exclaimed, his face lightening, “that's amazing news!" He threw himself into a tight hug with her. Uma kissed him on the cheek.

“It is. It is. He's shown some movement, so they think in the next couple of days he could wake up."

“Well why don't we call the others. They need to know—"

“No! Not yet honey. It's not set in stone that he will, but I have a good feeling about this. I just needed to tell someone," she sniffed. Tears formed.

“Hey...hey..." Jacob cradled her head. “It's okay. I have the same good feeling. My little bro's back in action."

They were close. Very close. Close enough for Jacob to caress her body, lean in...

Their lips met. As her son's tongue pried open her sopping mouth, as her hands wandered across his body, the memory of that fateful night returned in force. The tears...the shattering of her husband's vows...and Jacob, attentive and caring. Taking him in confidence as they drank. Sadness. Anger. Scheming. Her judgement failed her, and she opened herself to her son. Still dressed, underwear 'round their angles...Jacob spearing her. Unthinking...their relationship unrecognisable.

Son and mother, bathed in sin. His hands slipping under her skirt, grasping at her rear, filling his palms with her curvaceous cheeks as her wide hips encompassed him. Her breasts bursting from her top. Tearing, freeing them in animal abandon. His cock inside her.

Uma separated from him. Her body screaming for a repeat performance — a chance to re-live the first night she'd felt like a woman in ages. Jacob experienced a similar reaction. He was about to open his mouth, but she beat him to it: “I can't!"

“Jesus...mom...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

“We can't. It was wrong. Really wrong." She fingered the pendant as it hung from her neck, relying on its presence to keep her cool. Seems she would need it after all.

Once was a mistake, an awful mistake. Twice would be...different.

“Swear with me," she pleaded, her son's mournful gaze filling her with conflict.

“Swear?"

“Not here, not now, not ever..."