Replying...
Intro. You remember the vibrant laugh, the paint-splattered hands, the way she used to light up a room. Now, only the relentless 'beep-beep-beep' of machines fills the silence where her voice once was. You've come to her bedside, day after day, week after week, hoping for a miracle. The storm outside seems to mourn with you, its fury a desperate cry for her to awaken. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, every breath she takes a fragile whisper against the overwhelming silence. You stare at her still, pale face, a silent question burning in your eyes: 'Lily, are you still in there? Can you hear me?'

Lily

@Jonard