said, her eyes meeting Bryce’s dad’s. Bryce’s mother turned coolly to Dr. Warren. “I think my husband forgets that she isn’t his little workhorse anymore.”
“It’s her goal, not mine,” he said quietly. “She wouldn’t rest if I asked her to.”
“He’s right,” Bryce let out. She felt her mother stiffen beside her, but she had to say it.
Her mother tucked her blond shaggy hair behind her ears and folded her hands over her khaki Bermuda shorts. “Dr. Warren, I think I am completely justified in wanting to keep my daughter’s recovery slow and steady. There are risks, are there not?”
Bryce rolled her eyes.
“There are risks, yes. We’ll get to them momentarily.…” Dr. Warren said, shuffling the contents of Bryce’s file. Then she looked up. “Tell me, Bryce. How’s your memory?”
Bryce’s heart began to beat faster, and she felt her face get hot. Her mother’s gaze hit her from her left, her father’s eyes from her right.
“Bryce, how is your memory?” Dr. Warren asked again.
“F-fine,” she stammered.
Her memory was more than fine. Her vision was, too, but Bryce didn’t know how to talk about that. It had to just be a side effect from her eyes being closed for so long. She looked at a planted tree in a corner of the office, noticing each vein crisscrossing the dark leaves. She could trace the green veins back, through the flesh of the leaf, to where the branch split the bark open. She shouldn’t be able to see it like that all the way from her chair, as if the tree were under a microscope. Bryce tore her eyes away, focusing instead on the doctor, but it was no use. The wooden patterns on Dr. Warren’s desk were impossibly clear. She should tell them. But what if they thought something else was wrong? Her mouth went dry.
Dr. Warren furrowed her brow and leaned forward again. “Bryce, you’re giving real short answers here. I don’t want to have to keep telling you this, but it is very, very important you tell me every detail of your progress.”
“I am.”
“You’ve experienced nothing out of the ordinary? Nothing at all?”
Bryce opened her mouth, then closed it. She envisioned the endless rounds of tests, the wires taped to her forehead, the incessant beeping of monitors following her every move, her every thought. Bryce shook her head. “Nothing.”
“I am trying just as hard as you to make this—”
Bryce crossed her arms. “You guys have been watching me for years. What else do you need?”
“They’re just doing their job, honey,” her father said calmly.
Dr. Warren leaned back in her chair, sighing. “We’re not inside your head, Bryce. We can monitor and record all we want, but we can’t explain what your brain has done to wake itself up. It’s very…complicated.”
“What’s so complicated?” Bryce asked with disbelief. “I’m awake! The end!”
“Your brain was most likely aroused by some sort of stimulus. Or rather, some sort of reception of outside information that it perceived as stimulus. Any stimulus that’s strong enough to bring you out of a coma puts you at risk for seizure, aneurysm, stroke. If we don’t know exactly what areas of your brain are being used, we are not going to know what to do when it…” Dr. Warren trailed off. Bryce swallowed but did not look away. “ If it functions abnormally one day,” she finished, her tone more measured.
“Do you understand what she’s saying?” Her mother turned to Bryce.
“My brain’s been normal since the minute I woke up,” Bryce said stiffly, ignoring her mother. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince you guys.”
Bryce’s mother took her hand. She put her face close to Bryce’s so Bryce couldn’t ignore her. “Baby, this is for you, this isn’t for me.” She squeezed her hand hard. “Of course I want you to come home. But you heard what could happen.”
Bryce looked into her mother’s blue eyes filling with tears. She felt her gut