Margaret was standing in the corner of the room, listening quietly to a Healer while her tears fell wet and thick against her hand. Motherly eyes glued to her son who lay still asleep in the hospital bed; it seemed only too recently that he had been here just like this. Except this time, they could wake him whenever they wanted. The Healer was informing Margaret of when, how and why when Verity returned.
'Darling,' Margaret called, ushering Verity over with a wave of her handkerchief. 'Nothing is working to heal his wound, right now. They need your permission to wake him to ask some questions.'