Chapter 388: Critical Awakening Period

Wren Sutton didn’t have to wait long. The door to the intensive care unit slowly opened from the inside, and the faint scent of disinfectant drifted out through the gap.

The nurse on duty walked out with a light step, raising a hand to remove her tight medical mask. She looked at Wren Sutton with a beaming smile.

"Mrs. Lancaster, Mr. Lancaster had a very noticeable reaction to the recording you prepared. All his monitored data shows positive changes. His physical movements and brainwaves aren’t just simple physiological reflexes—they’re clear responses from his own consciousness. This is an extremely critical sign that he’s about to wake up."

As the nurse’s words fell, an indescribable wave of ecstasy washed over Wren Sutton. Her eyes shone, and the corners of her mouth turned up.

"That’s wonderful! That’s really wonderful! Does that mean he’s getting closer and closer to waking up completely?"

"That’s right." The nurse nodded, her tone firm yet gentle.

"Responding consciously is the most positive sign. The probability of him waking up has increased dramatically, and it will likely be much sooner than we previously estimated."

"The attending physician and the two invited specialists will be here shortly to conduct a comprehensive evaluation of Mr. Lancaster. Please wait in the waiting area for now. We will inform you of the final results as soon as we have them."

"Okay, thank you for all your trouble," Wren Sutton said quickly.

She slowly walked to a chair in the waiting area and sat down, her excited heart taking a long time to calm.

The sunlight fell on her shoulders, warm and comforting, like a solace that had broken through a long, dark haze, gently soothing away the anxiety and fatigue she had felt for days.

Wren Sutton collected herself, took out her phone, and her fingertips flew across the screen as she typed out the news of Adrian Lancaster’s improvement, word by word, into the family group chat.

The message had barely been sent when Claire Sterling’s call came through almost instantly. The voice on the other end was filled with unrestrained excitement, her speech a little faster than usual.

"Wren, is what the nurse said true? Is Adrian about to wake up?!"

Wren Sutton held her phone, her eyes filled with gentle certainty.

"Mom, it’s true. The nurse said that after Adrian heard the recording, not only did his fingers move, but his eyelids and the corners of his mouth twitched too. His responses are getting more obvious by the day. The doctors say he’s on the brink of waking up."

"That’s wonderful, truly wonderful," Claire Sterling repeated, her voice full of emotion and relief.

"Wren, it’s all thanks to you. That was such a brilliant idea you came up with. You’re Adrian’s savior. The entire Lancaster family has you to thank."

"Mom, Adrian is my husband. It’s only right that I do everything I can for him," Wren Sutton replied softly.

"Yes, yes." Claire Sterling sniffled, both gratified and moved.

"I have a feeling Adrian will wake up today. Your dad and I will pack up and head to the hospital right away."

"I hope he wakes up today, too." Wren Sutton turned her head to look at the heavy door, her heart filled with hope.

Within an hour, the Lancasters arrived at the hospital.

Theodore Lancaster, Claire Sterling, Julian Lancaster, and Lucia Lancaster all arrived, along with the family’s white-haired grandmother.

They walked with hurried steps, yet instinctively slowed and quieted as they approached the ICU, afraid of disturbing the person inside.

Wren Sutton stood up and went to help the grandmother.

The grandmother looked at her grandson’s wife, who had clearly lost weight, and patted her arm sympathetically.

"Wren, you’ve worked so hard these past few days, always staying by Adrian’s side."

Wren Sutton helped the grandmother sit down, her bearing graceful and poised, her demeanor calm and steady.

"Grandma, our whole family has been watching over him. It’s this pure devotion and family love that has awakened Adrian Lancaster’s consciousness. His condition is improving, and I believe he’ll wake up very soon."

The grandmother nodded, her eyes glistening with tears, and squeezed Wren Sutton’s hand tightly.

"Yes, we’ll wait for Adrian to wake up together."

The family sat in the waiting area, waiting in quiet anxiety. The air was thick with a mixture of tension and anticipation.

Nearly another hour passed before the doors to the intensive care unit were finally pushed open again.

The attending physician, his expression relaxed, walked out holding a thick consultation report. He was flanked by two specialists with solemn faces.

"The patient is now clearly conscious. He’s no longer in a deep coma and has officially entered the critical period just before waking."

"During the consultation just now, the patient’s fingers moved voluntarily several times. His heart rate and blood oxygen saturation showed corresponding, stable fluctuations. Most importantly, his brainwaves show very clear signs of conscious activity. This is the best condition he’s been in so far."

"The therapy using a loved one’s voice for stimulation has produced results far exceeding our medical expectations. If we continue with it, his full recovery is only a matter of time."

The doctor’s words were like a brilliant ray of sunlight piercing through the gloom, instantly illuminating everyone’s hearts and sweeping away days of worry.

Joy spread across the Lancasters’ faces, and they let out a long, collective sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

Immediately after, the attending physician and the two resident specialists huddled together, heads bowed over the consultation report, carefully comparing and repeatedly assessing the various data points and monitoring graphs.

The three of them exchanged thoughts on professional indicators in hushed tones, their expressions focused and serious, not overlooking a single detail.

A moment later, the two specialists nodded simultaneously. The three of them had reached a consensus on the treatment plan.

The attending physician looked up at the hopeful faces of the Lancaster family.

"Family members, this is a critical time. The patient’s consciousness is at its most sensitive and active state. This is a golden opportunity that we absolutely cannot let pass."

"After discussion, we have unanimously decided to strike while the iron is hot. We will immediately arrange for the family member closest to the patient, the one he cares about most, to enter the ICU and cooperate with us in providing comprehensive sensory stimulation."

"The family member can speak to the patient face-to-face, talk about daily life in a soft voice, and make gentle physical contact. Through this multi-sensory guidance, we can help him break through the final barrier of his coma and wake up completely."

The moment the doctor finished speaking, the Lancasters didn’t hesitate or even discuss it among themselves. As if by unspoken agreement, every single gaze fell upon Wren Sutton, their eyes filled with trust and entrustment.

Claire Sterling took a step forward and grasped Wren Sutton’s hand, her tone firm. "Wren, you go in. He has the best chance of waking up with you by his side. You’re the person he’s most concerned about, and the one most capable of waking him."

Beside her, Theodore Lancaster also gave a solemn nod, his words concise. "That’s right. You’re the person Adrian cares about most. You’re the most suitable one to go in."

There was no argument, not a shred of doubt. With an unspoken understanding, the entire family unanimously entrusted this life-or-death moment entirely to Wren Sutton.

This heavy weight of trust sent a sudden warmth through Wren Sutton’s chest. The tip of her nose tingled, and she forcefully suppressed the moisture welling in her eyes.

She met everyone’s gaze and nodded solemnly.

"Please, don’t worry. I will be sure to tell him about all of our family’s concerns and wishes, and get him to wake up soon."

"Go on. You’ve got this."

Guided by the nurse on duty, Wren Sutton went to the disinfection room where she strictly followed procedure. She washed and sanitized her hands meticulously, then put on a heavy blue sterile isolation gown, disposable shoe covers, and a tight-fitting mask until only her gentle yet determined eyes were visible.

After completing all the preparations, she followed the nurse and walked, step by step, through that door.

This was the third time Wren Sutton had entered the intensive care unit.

She walked with steady, powerful steps, as if she were on her way to keep a long-awaited promise.