I drink my Talisker, breathing in its notes of toffee, earth, and ether. How must they all feel, all the people whose beloved lies in a coma? Do they remain “faithful” in the most innocent sense of the word? Do they long for sex, the touch of skin, laughter, and shared moments when life is full and sweet? Or do they die, a little at a time, because they no longer dare to live? Do they abandon their lives completely and devote themselves entirely to caring and comforting? Or do they conserve some of their strength for themselves?

I drain my glass. The whiskey burns my throat. Then I brush my hair, go to the small chapel to gather my courage and tenderness, and set off to see my oblivious husband.

“HOW’S MADDIE?” I ask Dr. Foss, who’s standing on the low dais in the center of the intensive care unit and peering at a monitor over another doctor’s shoulder.

He turns to face me and purses his lips. “I’m afraid there are no grounds for optimism,” he says quietly, his eyes scanning the space behind me, as if he’s worried that Sam might be there. “She’s still running a high temperature, and we haven’t been able to locate its cause. One of her kidneys has stopped working and her left lung is infected. Things don’t look good.”

I utter a silent prayer for her. Not the girl, please.

Henri and Maddie are now lying side by side in intensive care. C6 and C7.

“What about Henri?”

“No change, Mrs. Tomlin. His body appears to be stable, but he’s showing no signs of consciousness beyond that.”

He studies my face carefully, and I worry that he can smell the whiskey on my breath. I go over to the two beds, which the nurses have arranged so that Sam can sit with both of them at once. They’ve also granted him permission to stay overnight at the hospital. He’s been given the smallest room in the “family section.” Nobody’s informed the health insurance because there’s no budget for accommodation if there are no surviving relatives. Dr. Saul has ignored the rules in Sam and Maddie’s case. I felt a momentary flash of love for the doctor for this show of kindness.

“Don’t go thinking I’m a good person, Mrs. Tomlin,” he said. “I cannot stand good people.”

“It didn’t even cross my mind, I assure you.”

He flashed me a quick grin, and to my surprise I returned it. I’m afraid that we might actually grow to like each other.

Unlike Henri, Maddie is a ward of the state, and the state doesn’t sit on her bed for half the day, whispering words of encouragement to her as Sam does. The state doesn’t bring her light and beauty and cake as Sam does.