Hoke held his breath, his eyes fixated on his son, hoping something would happen. Yes, he was praying for a miracle and he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to happen.

                After several seconds, the realization set in.

                Nothing was happening.

                “What-“ Paula started to ask, but was quickly interrupted by her husband.

                “Shh!” Hoke hissed, still watching his son.

                “Hoke! What was that?” she asked, looking up at her husband.

                His shoulders slumped and he sighed, shaking his head no. “Nothing,” he said, not wanting to explain it since the vial was obviously useless. “Let’s go see when we can make arrangements.”

                Paula frowned, wondering what her husband was keeping from her. She looked back down at her son and leaned over to kiss his forehead, tears falling from her eyes and falling onto Howie’s skin. She slowly straightened up and followed her husband out of the cold room to find the detective again.

                Hoke did most of the talking, and was told that the official autopsy still needed to be conducted, but they should be able to plan something for about a week from then. The two men shook hands and as the detective turned to leave, Paula turned to Hoke.

                “We need to go check on Kristie,” she said firmly.

                Hoke new better than to argue with that voice. He nodded and led Paula over to the elevator, silently guiding her up to Kristie’s room. He  couldn’t believe he had hoped the blood would work. Hadn’t the woman said he would know when to use it? What better time to use it than when his son was dead? Hoke couldn’t help but rack his brain, wondering if there was an occasion over the last sixteen years that seemed more appropriate. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had missed the opportunity to save his son’s life.

                The first tears finally started to fall down Hoke’s cheeks as the elevator doors slid open. Hoke robotically made his way through the maze of hallways back to where Kristie and her parents were. Hoke knocked softly on the door before opening it, letting Paula in first.

                Paula quietly walked over to Janice, laying a comforting hand on the other womans shoulder. Janice looked up with a sad smile before she reached up and wiped away her tears. “The doctor said she’s in a medically induced coma. They decided having her oblivious to the pain was better for her to start to heal, rather than have her trying to suffer through it.” She sighed softly and reached for Kristie’s hand, gripping it tightly. “But she’s a fighter, she’ll pull through and wake up when she needs to…” She wiped away more tears and looked up at Paula again, seeming to just now remember that Howie was in the accident, too. “How is Howie doing?” she asked softly. “I don’t think the doctor remembered to tell us,” she looked over her shoulder at her husband. “Dane, did the doctor mention how Howie is doing?”

                Kristie’s father shook his head no, “I didn’t hear him mention Howie.”

                Janice turned back to Paula, “So, how is he?”

                Paula drew a deep breath and looked at Kristie, “He will be fine.” She knew it was a lie, but knew that Kristie’s parents needed to concentrate their prayers on their baby girl. She didn’t know yet how she would explain it, but she figured she had a couple days at least to figure it out.

                Hoke looked at his wife, who simply shook her head no. He looked at Dane and whispered, “Need any coffee? I can run and get us all some,” he suggested.

                Dane nodded, “Yeah, I’ll help you.”

                The two men left the mothers behind. As they approached the elevator, Dane turned to Hoke, “What is really happening with Howie? I saw the look you gave Paula when she said he was fine.”

                Hoke couldn’t speak, his throat had closed up on him again, and it took everything to simply concentrate on breathing.

                “I can get coffee. You should go be with your son,” Dane said softly. He knew Hoke was the kind of guy that needed to be told the obvious sometimes.

                Hoke nodded and turned towards the staircase. He wasn’t even sure he was allowed down in the morgue on his own, but Dane was right. He needed to be with his son.

                He was surprised at the lack of security in the basement. There were no card readers to unlock doors, or hell, even locks on doors. He walked right through the swinging doors and in to the cold room. He found the table his son had been laying on before, lifting the sheet to make sure Howie was still there and hadn’t been moved.

                Hoke’s throat finally let a sound escape as he jumped away from the table, letting the sheet fall to the floor.

                Eyes searched the room, blinking slowly. When they fell on hoke, the man heard a small sound that sounded a lot like, “Dad?”

                Hoke stepped back over to the table and looked down at his son. “I’m here,” he said, his eyes searching Howie’s face, looking for the cuts and bruises that were there just moments ago.

                “Where am I?” the scared voice asked.