Fifty-Six | "You, me, and Milo."

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Liza thought it was odd that she felt no pain as she remained lying in the hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness as nurses, doctors, nursing assistants, respiratory therapists, and others came bustling in and out of her room.

They turned her regularly, to prevent pressure injuries, they said, and they also told her she was being fed through a central, intravenous line in her arm. They didn't come in with pain medication often, which is why she thought it strange that she rarely hurt. She hadn't been able to speak to ask, but she supposed she must have been in the hospital at least long enough for her injuries to heal, which would explain why she didn't feel pain.

She still hadn't been able to open her eyes, but her hearing remained perfectly intact. She was able to listen to the nurses and nursing assistants talk to her about various topics as they cared for her, including the weather, politics, and celebrity drama. Most of the time, she had no clue who they were speaking about, but she still thought it kind that they spoke to her so freely, since it made her feel less alone.

Of course, she knew perfectly well that she wasn't alone.

She heard the sweet, soothing tones of her mother from her left regularly. Within her mind, she imagined that the woman was reading a book for her book club, or perhaps working on her needlepoint. She knew for certain that her mother was talking to Milo, and she was beyond relieved to know that her dog was alright.

Liza was also touched to hear one of her favorite voices, deep, energetic at times, but always gentle when directed at her.

"Hey, gorgeous," Elijah would always say when he entered the room. "Miss me?" The specifics of time were hard for her to determine; she only knew when twelve hours had gone by due to her nurses changing out, or when someone would mention the exact time to her. Still, sometimes she could have sworn that Elijah would only be gone for several minutes, and yet still enter with that same question: "Miss me?"

And, in her head, Liza would always respond, "Yeah, I guess so," because she knew that would have sent him into a dramatic fit, which would have made her laugh, which would have made him stop and stare at her and then say something sappy like, "God, you're stunning."

Yeah, she was glad to have been given yet another chance at life—more specifically, another chance at life with Elijah.

Austin came by, too. His drawl was unmistakable, as was his nickname for her. "Tiny," he'd start, before launching into some long, drawn-out tale about his struggling romantic life, his failures when cooking, or Elijah's antics.

"Your boy's annoyin' as shit," he'd grumbled one day, only for her mother to pipe up from her left, "Oh, come now, Austin," in that calm, chiding tone of hers. Austin had apologized, before explaining that Elijah had been buying books of knock-knock jokes to tell Liza, but had been testing them out on Austin first, and Austin was not amused.

Besides learning just how sweet her boyfriend was being (unsurprisingly), Liza was able to discern that a fair amount of time had passed since Carson Pierce's delightful visit, considering that Austin and her mom had clearly become closely acquainted. Another indicator that some time had passed was the obvious fact that Elijah was by her bedside nearly every minute, which meant he must be healed from his own accident.

Not only was her sweet boyfriend almost always present; he talked to her all the time. She couldn't feel much, still, but she knew he touched her, because he would always warn her before he did so. It was the very thing he'd done when they first began to get close, after he'd learned just how scary it was for Liza to be touched by those she didn't know well.

"I'm going to hold your hand, my Liza," he would say, before she could feel the odd sensation of her arm being shifted and her fingers being curled by an outside force.

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