Wake for Me (Life or Death Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

at the back of the room for the next case. That way, Chakrabarti would hopefully forget Brady was there and forget to call on him. Sam was so used to the way his best friend’s mind worked by now, he could practically draw a diagram. The thought of a two-line structure branching from food to sex, with nothing in the middle, made him forget about his problems for a few seconds, and he smiled.
    “Why give up now? Every question you get wrong is one you’ll remember forever. Plus, you’re the one who’s always telling me, if you’re going to tank, tank hard.”
    “Fuck you, Doogie Howser,” Brady whispered good-naturedly. “Not all of us can be premature medical geniuses.”
    Sam laughed quietly. If it wasn’t for concurrent enrollment, he’d still be in his first year of med school. But why not let everyone think he was some kind of baby Einstein? It kept them from asking why he’d given up any semblance of a functional social life for six years running.
    As he led the way into room 712—Mrs. Goldblum, a 72-year-old woman who’d been in a persistent vegetative state for going on three months now—Sam tried to put his demons firmly behind him. But it was harder than it should’ve been, because spending his days with Sleeping Beauty and her fellow unconscious inpatients had a way of bringing out everything he was afraid of. They couldn’t outrun their nightmares. What was his excuse?
    “Dude, I think Mrs. Goldblum’s family is going to pull the plug on her today,” Brady whispered, as the rest of their peers shuffled solemnly into the room. They must’ve heard the news about the patient’s imminent passing, too. “I guess that means we’ll have one less link in the Matrix.”
    That was what Brady called the coma ward. The Matrix. It was probably in bad taste, but Sam kind of liked to think it was possible that all these unconscious people were living full, meaningful lives in some alternate reality. Hell, if he could make himself believe it, maybe it’d even help him sleep better at night.
    But probably not.
    Because the thing was, until that moment Sam hadn’t really even let himself think about the worst-case scenario. The scenario where unlike him, Viola’s family decided to give up on her and pull the plug. Legally speaking, that day could come at any time.
    And if they did decide to pull the plug, there wasn’t a damn thing Sam could do about it.
     

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    “I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father’s protection.” –Sigmund Freud
     
    “Viola, where are you?”
    I’m under my father’s big, wooden desk, hiding with my arms wrapped around my knees. My legs are little, and I’m wearing a fluffy, pink dress. I can’t remember what I’m hiding from, but a moment ago I felt scared. Until I heard my father’s voice.
    “I’m here, Papa!” I crawl out from under the desk, and find myself in the middle of my grandfather’s old vineyard in Bellemonte. The skies are pink, and the air smells like roses and sweet grape leaves. Somewhere off in the distance, soft jazz music plays. When I see my father standing at the edge of a row of vines, so tall and proud in his favorite gray suit, I smile.
    “There you are,” he says. “Come here, mon chaton .”
    I run to him, feeling the grass tickle at my feet. I think I had shoes on before, but now they’re gone. I don’t mind. The grass is soft and still warm from the blush-colored sun.
    He kneels at my side, taking my little hand and running it over the dark green grape leaves. They’re almost as big as my hand, and they shine like they’re made of wax. Or plastic. I reach in to pluck one and my hand connects with a thorn.
    “Ouch!”
    “ Fais attention , mon chaton ,” he says, pulling my hand back to inspect it. He lays a kiss on my open palm as purple blood flows in rivulets down my skinny little arm. “You’ve forgotten about the roses.”
    “What roses?” I ask, indignant. I don’t