Mama, Look at Me Now." With that last breath, the woman's eyes remained open and she gasped for air. For the first time, her lifeless eyes seemed to see something other than a sea of white faces and a ceiling with no end. She blinked a few times as her gaze wandered over the room and then locked onto her daughter. And at that exact moment, the woman's heart gave one more beat. She tried to pull herself upright but a nurse rushed forward, put her hand on the woman's shoulder, and eased her back down. Alyssa saw a tear roll down the nurse's cheek. She was crying for joy! * * * Amidst the commotion in the room, Dr. Garrison made his way through the crowd and over to Alyssa. His expression was stern. "Someone better call your husband." Alyssa nodded and then turned and called her husband on the house phone. He picked up and Alyssa informed him of what had happened. Tom ran down the corridor, burst through the door, and stopped in his tracks. The sight that met him was both joyful and frightening. He stood there in a daze for several seconds, too afraid to move or speak. "Honey, can you believe it? She just passed." Alyssa was barely audible over the sounds of cheers, hugs, and tears. At that moment, Tom felt fear that went beyond anything he'd felt before. He had the distinct impression that his wife and mother were no longer in this world; they'd crossed over. He felt he had been punched in the stomach and was choking on a sob. He forced himself to walk forward and to reach for his wife. Her body was still, but the rest of her was moving, too. He saw her mouth mouthing something, and he realized she was still speaking to him. "Babe?" he heard himself say through tears. "What are you saying?" With that, Alyssa came alive. She began to breathe rapidly, like she had the night before. A moment later, she opened her eyes and looked at her husband. She stared at him like he had woken her from a nightmare. Then her eyes closed and her chest heaved once. For the first time, she spoke. "Lay your hands on me, Tom." Tom sat there, dumbfounded, as he watched his wife's life force return. How could that be? she was dead. He had watched her die. He had heard her take her last breath. "Tom," Alyssa said. Her voice was soft, her words were slow. But then they started coming quickly and the words hit him like bullets. "Tom, I need you." This wasn't right. It couldn't be. They'd both been at death's door, both of them. They'd lived. They couldn't have lived if they had actually died, not after how many times they'd nearly killed each other. "Alyssa, it's okay." She shook her head. "Don't you understand? I'm tired. I just want to sleep." "I won't let you go." Tom got on his knees and clasped his hands around her body, as if his arms could reach inside her and make everything right. "I need you to hear this, Tom." Her words came out in a rush. "I think he's still in there." "What are you talking about?" Her eyes focused and she seemed to come out of her daze. "He's here, I think." Her voice dropped. "I think he's close by." "Who, Alyssa? Who is it?" "The man, the man. The one I told you about. The one we fought with. The one we nearly killed. I think he's still in here, hiding inside me." "The man?" Tom said, repeating the word. "The one you were fighting with?" Her eyes fluttered open and then shut, and she relaxed into the bed. "Yes." "But . . . you died, Alyssa. They said you were gone. They told me you were gone." The woman's eyes came back open. She shook her head and pointed at her chest. "No, Tom, not me, not me." A wave of relief filled his heart and mind. Alyssa's eyes focused once more. She squeezed his hands tighter and brought them to her chest. "Please, Tom. Touch me, Tom." Tom took her hand, placed it over her heart, and felt it beating slowly, steadily. He took her other hand, placed it over her stomach, and then let his hands drift up to her chest and her face. Her lips looked firm and her eyes were still open. She was real. She was alive. And then she smiled. # 11 Tom's entire body went weak and cold with a sense of shock. His legs nearly gave out, and his breath caught in his lungs. "Alyssa, Alyssa," he repeated. "Honey, you're . . ." "Alive," she finished for him, still smiling but looking very tired. "Tom. I want you to do something for me." He was at a loss for words. She wanted something, and he had no idea what it was. He only knew he loved her and had to take care of her, which was why he had spent years trying to find a way to save her. But now he didn't know what to do or say. He looked over at Alyssa's mother, who was beaming with happiness. "Mom?" he said, turning to her. Loretta smiled. "She's back, Tom," she said with a soft smile. "She's back." A man that Tom hadn't noticed before came into the room and placed his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Mr. and Mrs. Lazarow," he said, "I'm Dr. Garrison." Tom nodded. "And you are?" "Dennis, her doctor. We've known each other for almost ten years. I have worked with her for five of those. As for our conversation, Mrs. Lazarow was the one who asked for you. She only asked me to stay until you got here and to tell you all is well." Tom looked at Alyssa and tried to smile at her but was only able to manage a weak smile himself. He was aware of Dr. Garrison telling him he was happy she was all right, but the man's words had no impact on him. He knew something had happened, something big, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. "What is it?" he finally said, not knowing what else to ask. Alyssa looked at him and tried to smile, but the expression only looked grotesque. "When I get back, would you and I have a talk, Tom? I have things to say." "Sure, honey," he said, but his mind was stuck on just one thing. _She's back_. _She's alive._ # 12 Alyssa Lazarow was sitting up in her bed and looked to be in good spirits as Tom left the room and turned off the light. He glanced down at her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be right back." "Tom, there is one thing I want you to know. I'm happy to be here, and I hope you're happy to have me." Tom wanted to hold her, but that was impossible at the moment. "Of course I am," he said. "I love you." "No, I mean I'm happy, truly happy. I finally feel . . . I feel like I've escaped my prison. This is the first time I've felt right in a long, long time. And Tom? There's someone else here who needs your help." Tom's eyes widened and his breath caught in his lungs. "There's someone else here? Who? Who is it?" Alyssa squeezed Tom's hands and stared at him. "You know him, Tom. You know who it is." "Alyssa . . ." Tom's stomach sank. He didn't want to think about it. What if she died again? What if he had to stand there watching it happen all over again? "You have to listen to me. You have to promise you will help him," she said, turning her head away from him. "I don't know how long he'll be around. And I want you to make sure he gets better. That's the most important thing." She was trying to help him, trying to guide him through the thick fog, and Tom thought he heard her say something about helping the man. He wanted to believe her, to be comforted and hopeful. But at the same time, his mind was telling him that if she was in the same shape she'd been in the other night, then she wasn't talking about the other man who was still around and was still standing in front of him. Alyssa's eyes were focused on him, and he could see that she needed him, that she really did need him. It was up to