“Mom? I think we might have found her." She set her phone on the table and hit the speaker button.

“Hello, Cheryl? You're on speaker now with my mother.

My father is in the room, too."

"Yes, hello. Can you please describe the woman in question, ma'am?"

"Yes," Rachel said eagerly.

“Her name is Althea Carpenter. She's twenty-six years old, five foot seven, long blond hair, green eyes.

Weighs approximately one hundred fifteen pounds.”

“That's our girl," said the woman on the other end of the phone. "She came in over a week ago. She had some sort of seizure outside her home.

Witnesses called the EMTs and they brought her here. She's in our ICU.

Dr. Marafi has been running tests on her, but she doesn't seem to have found a cause for her illness."

"Illness?" her father asked.

“Yes, sir. She seems to be in a coma."

“Well, she's alive. That's the important thing," Rachel said. "Would it be possible to have Dr. Marafi call me when she has a moment?"

"I can ask, ma'am. But you understand, unless you're a close family member, there's not much more she will be able to tell you."

“Understood.” She gave the Lady her cell number.

“Thank you for your help. Goodbye, Cheryl. And thank you." She hung up the phone.

“Alive,” she said, a smile of relief brightening her face. "Well. That's a start."

“Why is this Lady so important, Mom?"

“Everyone's important to somebody, honey." She relaxed against her husband, watching benignly as he flipped through the channels. Sarah tried not to feel jealous of her, even as he absently placed a hand on her bare knee, his fingers softly caressing her skin. Look how well they fit together, she thought. At that moment, the mere thought of having what her parents shared seemed Laughable.

“Well, I'm going to get started on supper," she said, standing up. "Any requests, Daddy?"