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the new facility in a day?
    Overwhelmed, she sat beside her comatose husband and put her face in her hands and started to cry, from exhaustion as much as outrage.
    If he wasn’t going to wake up, maybe it would have been better if Howe had died.
    The social worker reappeared at the door and knocked. “Mrs. Whittington?”
    What now? Elizabeth looked up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Yes?”
    “I just checked and found out a brand-new neurological hospital just opened near Emory, and it offers specialized long-term coma care. Cutting-edge. They’re doing lots of studies using all the latest techniques, and word is, they’re already getting some dramatic results.”
    Elizabeth latched on to that like a falling climber grabs a limb. “What’s the name? Who do I call?” She groped for her cell phone.
    The social worker read the phone number from a small piece of scratch paper, and Elizabeth stored it in her phone.
    “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Elizabeth let herself hope again, despite the shadow of permanent damage that still edged everything.
    Then she heard a sound from the bed.
    “Nnngh!”
    She looked over and saw her husband shift his hand. “Howe!” His eyes were open. Just a little, but they were open, and the pupils were moving. “Dear God, he’s waking up.” She rang for the nurse, punching the button again and again, for the first time since they’d moved into the room.
    “Yes, Mrs. Whittington?” blared over the speaker.
    “Come quick. My husband’s waking up.”
    “I’ll be right there.”
    The social worker motioned to the corridor. “I saw your family at the end of the hallway. Would you like me to go tell them?”
    “Please. And get the nurse.” Elizabeth grasped Howe’s hand. “Howe, can you hear me? It’s Elizabeth. Wake up, Howe! Wake up.”
    His eyes remained slitted, but there was no further movement. His hand remained slack in hers.
    “Squeeze my hand, Howe. Come on. You can do it. Squeeze my hand.”
    She thought she felt a faint pressure. Or was it just her imagination, willing her to believe it?
    The nurse came in and checked the leads to his head and the monitors. “Let’s see what we have here.”
    “He spoke,” Elizabeth told her, her heart racing.
    The nurse looked skeptical. “What did he say?”
    “Well, it wasn’t a word, or anything, but he made a sound and moved his hand. He hasn’t done that before.”
    The nurse checked the tape from the EKG, and when shelooked back up, Elizabeth saw pity in her eyes. “Patients who’ve been in Mr. Whittington’s condition for this length of time rarely just wake up. Depending on the effects of their injuries, coming out of coma can be a long, gradual process, and sometimes a difficult one. Many move and make sounds, even open their eyes while they’re still comatose. Some even respond to simple commands. But that doesn’t necessarily indicate they’re conscious.”
    Seeing Elizabeth’s disappointment, she added, “We can take it as a hopeful sign that he might be beginning the process. Please call me if he shows any other signs. We’re all rooting for him. And for you.”
    The door swished open, and the children preceded Augusta into the room.
    “Daddy?” Patricia was flushed with excitement as she flew to take his hand. “Daddy, it’s your Patti-girl. Open your eyes. Please, Daddy. We’ve all been so worried about you. Please open your eyes.”
    The nurse shot Elizabeth a sidelong glance, then repeated what she’d just said, verbatim, making it sound canned to Elizabeth’s ears.
    She wondered how many times the woman had said the same thing to desperate families.
    Elizabeth told the others that she’d decided to send Howe to the new hospital.
    It came as no surprise when her mother-in-law balked. “Latest advances? What latest advances? Do you mean to make a guinea pig of my son? Well, I won’t let you. We’ll take him home, where he belongs. I can move in and help care for him.”
    Over