(with a half-frown) What???
Femi lifts his head up in embarrassment, trying to avoid any further visual contact with her. Looking straight ahead, he speaks in a steady tone:
FEMI
I meant to say that you’re very lucky to be alive.
He fails to lower his head down again, in a bid to avoid staring at Chioma in the eye. She stares up at him for a while, saying nothing. She breaks into a SUBTLE smile after observing the discomfort the Officer has been cast into.
CHIOMA (still smiling)
What day is it?
Chioma’s question sort of dispelled the embarrassment enveloping the gentleman, as he lowers his head down again to catch a quick and pleasing sight of beauty before him.
FEMI (in relief)
It’s February fifteenth. You’ve been in coma for hours.
INT. HALLWAY, ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - SAME TIME
A DOCTOR walks smartly along the hallway leading to Chioma’s hospital room. How to describe him? Healthy-looking would come to mind, which in fact, he is. A HEALTHY-LOOKING white man, average height, bald-headed, with scanty grey-hair growth, appears to be in his late 50s, wearing a GLISTENING white laboratory coat, unbuttoned completely, revealing a yellow shirt and a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
BACK TO:
INT. ROOM 7, WING C, ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - CONTINUOUS
Femi lifts his left hand to his face, and glances SHARPLY at the face of his gold wristwatch LOOSELY wrapped around his wrist, and dangling about.
FEMI
It’s past one.
CHIOMA (in shock)
I was in coma?