Seraphina opened her eyes.
For a few seconds, she didn't understand what was happening.
There was light.
Real light.
She could see the pale ceiling above her. The curtains beside the window. The metal railing of the hospital bed.
She blinked rapidly.
Then she looked down at her hands.
She could see them.
For seventeen years, Seraphina had lived in darkness.
She had been born blind.
But now—
She could see.
A nurse entered the room.
Seraphina smiled.
“Excuse me?”
The nurse didn't answer.
She was staring at the wall.
Seraphina followed her gaze.
There was something written across it.
Not in ink.
Not in paint.
In blood.
Four words were scrawled across the white wall.
DON'T LET THEM KNOW YOU CAN SEE.
Seraphina's smile disappeared.
The nurse suddenly turned toward her.
“Are you awake?”
Seraphina looked at her.
The nurse's eyes were strangely unfocused.
“I… I think so.”
The nurse walked toward her, feeling along the furniture with trembling hands.
She couldn't see.
Seraphina's heart began pounding.
The entire hospital was filled with people who couldn't see.
Doctors were walking into walls.
Patients were screaming.
Nurses were holding onto one another.
Yet Seraphina could see everything.
And nobody seemed to notice.
Nobody except the blood-written message.
She stared at it again.
Who had written it?
And more importantly—
who were “they”?
---
There were four other patients in the hospital who had been in comas.
A twelve-year-old boy.
An elderly woman.
A young man named Adrian.
And Seraphina.
Within twenty-four hours, all four woke up.
And all four could see.
But they were not allowed to know that about one another.
At least, that's what the message seemed to imply.
Seraphina discovered the truth accidentally.
She was walking through the darkened corridor when she saw someone standing at the end of it.
A boy.
He wasn't touching the walls.
He wasn't stumbling.
He was simply standing there.
Looking directly at her.
Their eyes met.
Neither moved.
Then he slowly looked toward the wall beside him.
Seraphina followed his gaze.
There was another message.
Written in blood.
DON'T LET THEM KNOW YOU CAN SEE.
The boy looked back at her.
His expression changed.
He understood.
“You can see,” he whispered.
Seraphina's heart dropped.
“So can you.”
His name was Adrian.
And he had woken from his coma two days before her.
Neither of them knew who had written the messages.
Neither knew why they could see.
But they soon discovered something terrifying.
Every person in the hospital who had not been in a coma had become blind.
Every person who had been in a coma could see.
And there were only four of them.
Seraphina.
Adrian.
The twelve-year-old boy.
And the elderly woman.
Then the elderly woman disappeared.
No one remembered seeing her leave.
The next morning, Seraphina found her hospital room door open.
The elderly woman's bed was empty.
Except for a message scratched into the mattress.
SHE SAW THEM.
Seraphina couldn't breathe.
Adrian appeared behind her.
“What happened?”
She pointed toward the mattress.
He read the words.
Neither spoke.
Then they heard footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming from the corridor.
They turned.
Nothing.
The footsteps stopped.
Adrian grabbed Seraphina's hand and pulled her into the supply room.
They stood silently in the darkness.
The footsteps passed their door.
Then stopped.
A shadow appeared underneath it.
Someone was standing outside.
Seraphina covered her mouth.
The shadow remained perfectly still.
Then a voice whispered through the door.
“Seraphina?”
Her blood ran cold.
It was her mother's voice.
But her mother was at home.
The voice whispered again.
“Open the door.”
Adrian shook his head.
“Don't.”
Seraphina stared at him.
“How do you know?”
He leaned closer.
“Because I heard that voice yesterday.”
The shadow slowly moved away.
For several seconds, there was silence.
Then something began scratching the door.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And suddenly—
nothing.
Adrian finally looked at Seraphina.
“They aren't blind.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“The people outside.”
His voice trembled.
“They're pretending.”
Seraphina felt cold all over.
“Why?”
Adrian looked toward the door.
“Because they want to find out which of us can see.”
A terrible silence filled the room.
Then Seraphina noticed something.
There was writing on Adrian's wrist.
Tiny letters.
Almost invisible.
She grabbed his arm.
“Where did you get that?”
Adrian looked down.
He hadn't noticed it before.
Three words were appearing beneath his skin.
YOU WOKE HER.
Seraphina stared at him.
“Who?”
Adrian slowly looked toward the hospital window.
Outside, the city was completely silent.
Then every blind person in the hospital turned their heads toward the same window.
At exactly the same time.
And smiled.
Seraphina's hand tightened around Adrian's.
He looked at her.
For the first time, neither of them was afraid to admit what they were thinking.
They were the only two people who could trust each other.
And somewhere beneath the hospital—
something had been waiting for them to wake up.
Something that had been waiting for seventeen years.
Then the lights went out.
In the darkness, a little girl's voice whispered:
“Finally.”
Seraphina felt Adrian's hand find hers.
And neither of them let go.
