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

This biker kept visiting my comatose daughter every day for 6 months and I had no idea who he was.

Every afternoon at exactly 3 PM, this massive man with a gray beard and leather vest would walk into room 412, sit beside my seventeen-year-old daughter’s bed, and hold her hand for exactly one hour.

The nurses knew him by name. Thomas, they called him. They’d smile when he arrived. Bring him coffee. Chat with him like he was family.

But he wasn’t family. I’d never seen this man before in my life.

My daughter Emma had been in a coma since the car accident six months ago. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit her driver’s side door at fifty miles per hour. She was driving home from her part-time job at the bookstore. Five minutes from our house. Five minutes from safety.

The doctors said she might never wake up. Said the brain injury was severe. Said I should prepare myself for the worst.

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