Biker Kept Visiting My Comatose Daughter Every Day For 6 Months And I Had No Idea Who He Was

Thomas laughed. “Stubbornness is a survival trait. Emily had it too.”

His wife Marie started visiting. Sweet woman with sad eyes. She brought homemade soup and insisted I eat. She’d sit with Emma while Thomas and I took walks around the hospital, stretching our legs, getting fresh air.

“You need to take care of yourself,” Marie would say. “Emma’s going to need her mama strong when she wakes up.”

When. Not if. Marie always said when.

The other Guardians started showing up too. Big, scary-looking men in leather vests who’d sit in the hallway because too many visitors weren’t allowed in the room. They’d bring food. Flowers. Books for me to read to Emma.

“She’s our sister now,” Robert, the club’s vice president, told me. “We don’t abandon family.”

One night I was alone with Emma. It was late. The hospital was quiet. I was holding her hand like Thomas had taught me, talking to her about nothing and everything.

“Baby girl, there’s this man who’s been visiting you. His name is Thomas. He saved your life. He pulled you from the car and held your hand and promised you wouldn’t die alone.”

I squeezed her fingers.

“He lost his daughter twenty-three years ago. Emily. She was about your age. He never got to say goodbye to her. I think visiting you has helped him heal. You’ve given him something even in your sleep.”

I leaned closer.

“I need you to wake up, sweetheart. Not just for me. For Thomas too. He’s been waiting six months to tell you that you made it. That you’re okay. That you’re not going to die alone.”

Nothing. Just the steady beep of the machines.

I laid my head down on the edge of her bed and closed my eyes. So tired. So scared. So desperate for a miracle.

And then I felt it.

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