Linda still wasn't awake yet. She didn't have another nightmare as far as I could tell. I walked quietly over to her door and peeked inside, not in a creepy way, but just to check on her. She seemed to be doing alright.

She woke up a few minutes later and immediately started coughing, shaking her whole body. She took a sip from the water glass on her nightstand, still wheezing.

I knocked on the door. "Are you alright, Love?"

"It's fine, it's just a little dry."

"May I come in?"

"Sure,"

I stepped inside, narrowly missing the wheelchair on my way over. I hated that she had to be confined to that thing.

"Did you sleep alright?" I asked, kneeling down beside her. She nodded, her eyes still puffy from crying at midnight. "Oh, good."

"I want to see if I can sit upright by myself," she told me, regret momentarily flashing through her eyes.

"Okay, but be careful," Damn, I thought. I sound like a broken record.

Ever so slowly, she lifted herself off the pillows and pushed her legs to the side of the bed, facing me. I smiled proudly at her. "Beautiful, Linda," She was getting stronger, however slow. She was also at a much healthier weight. Not quite the weight the doctor asked for, but much improved from a month ago.

I helped her up again, but she didn't lean on me as much. We walked to the end of the room and back, then to the end again before she felt ready to collapse. I knelt down and held my other arm behind her knees and told her to sit back into my arms. I carried her to her wheelchair and eased her into it, trying to avoid any scars. Her skin was less sensitive, but I was still cautious.

I replaced the bandage on her shoulder again, and I noticed it looked better.

Things seemed to be looking up, other than the fact that her dream was still haunting her. She didn't say so, but she was spacing out all day.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked gently.

She looked down at the floor and shook her head. "Maybe tomorrow,"