For the next three weeks, an informal shift rotation was established. Stevie was never left alone. A steady stream of family members and friends took turns to visit, sitting by her, talking to her, playing music, each wondering if some miraculous breakthrough would happen during their time at her side.
But it didn't. The initial positivity in the first 24 hours faded as the days went by and there were no further improvements. They had tried reducing her ventilation again but had to immediately increase it because she couldn't cope.
Sheryl only left for essential reasons, and if those essential reasons didn't have her back at Stevie's side within an hour she didn't want to know. The nurses had commandeered a recliner for her to sleep in, not that she often slept. She was drawn and pale, her hair permanently scraped back and her clothes hanging off of her. She had to be dragged away by well meaning friends to freshen up. This was usually Lori, who brought clean clothes when she visited or sent some with Chris as they were all staying at Stevie's.
It was during Chris's visit it happened. He and Sheryl were sitting opposite sides of Stevie and chatting about baseball.
"I mean, you've gotta admit that even the Cardinals - did you see that?"
"What?"
She sat upright in her seat and followed his gaze to Stevie's right hand resting on her chest.
"She moved. Stevie? Tee?"
They both stared intently at the hand. After about 15 seconds, her index finger twitched. Sheryl jumped up and mashed the call button with her fist.
"Stevie? Can you hear us?"
The nurse appeared at the end of the bed.
"Is everything ok?"
"She's moving! She's moving, look!"
They silently stared at Stevie's hand, waiting for her finger to twitch again. Sheryl was crestfallen when she saw the nurse's reaction.
"It's likely involuntary. It's good though - it means her nervous system is functional." She glanced at Sheryl's face as the only spark of positivity she'd known in three weeks was snuffed out. "Try not to be disheartened. Miracles take time."
As she bustled back out of the room, Sheryl got to her feet and walked to the window.
"If one more person talks to me about miracles or patience or god's plan I'm going to lose it. I don't want a miracle, I want my fiancée back."
"Sheryl..."
"What?" She snapped without meaning to, turning round to face him. He was out of his chair, stroking Stevie's hand and looking down into her face. As she moved back to the bed, she saw it for herself; brown eyes that were open and looking back at Chris.
~
She had immediately panicked and started pulling at the wires, gagging on the ventilation tube and trying to get up. This time, Sheryl hit the emergency button and a full team came rushing in. One steered Sheryl and Chris out into the hallway whilst they worked on her.
It was an hour later when they were allowed back in. She had been given a mild sedative and was propped up on pillows, drifting in and out of sleep. The main ventilation tube had been disconnected, and her face was properly visible for the first time in weeks.
She smiled weakly when she saw Chris again. He kissed her head with tears in his eyes.
"How are you feeling?"
"I've been better." Her voice was a barely audible croak. Sheryl had a fleeting concern for the long term effects all this would have on her singing but pushed it out of her mind as she stepped closer, holding a cup of water up to Stevie's mouth. "Thank you."
