The ICU room was a blur of shadows and clinical light.
Arthur was lying still, his breath shallow and even. Sarah sat beside him, holding his hand.
"She's here, Sarah," he whispered, his eyes closing. "I can feel her. She’s not in the shadows anymore. She’s in the light. And she’s calling me home."
Sarah felt a single tear escape. "Then go to her, Arthur. Go to the light."
"The monitor began to slow, the steady beep becoming a long, final tone. Sarah didn't move. She just held his hand until the room was finally, truly quiet."