"What am I doing here? What happened? How did I get here?" Mr. Martin asked his daughter Alexia, his voice weak and confused.
Alexia held his hands tightly, tears of joy streaming down her face. "You're in the hospital, Dad. You've been in a coma for a few months now."
Mr. Martin tried to sit up, but his body was too weak. The doctor, who was leaving the room, cautioned, "I think you should keep lying down, Mr. Martin. Your body is still very weak."
As the doctor left, Mr. Martin looked at Alexia, seeking answers. "Someone attacked you, Dad," she explained gently. "You've been in a coma since then."
Mr. Martin's eyes narrowed, trying to remember. "Yeah, that's right...I can remember someone hitting me."
Alexia's eyes filled with concern. "Did you see his face?" she asked.
Mr. Martin shook his head, his eyes filled with frustration. "No, I didn't."
