I had my head down, holding my husband's hand. He still hadn't woken up, even thirty-six hours after surgery. The doctor had just told me he was stable and all we could do was wait, when I felt his hand squeeze mine lightly. I lifted my head and immediately looked at him, seeing that pair of violet eyes light up again.

"Alessandro, my love! Finally..." I smiled at him. "I'll call the doctor. Don't move and don't move anything."

I went to the nurses' desk opposite the ICU bed where my husband was, told him he was awake, and ran back to be by his side.

"My love, I was so scared," I said, holding his hand again.

"So, the most visited patient in this hospital has woken up." Dr. Estênio walked in smiling and introduced himself. "Alessandro, you're in the hospital because you were shot." I'll examine you, please do as I say.

The doctor performed a basic assessment of strength and reflexes and checked the monitors beside him. Finally, he said he would remove the tube connected to the respira