The muttering roused Dane. He could hear this low voice whose soft echoes told him he was still in a room, possibly in the hospital. He wanted to open his eyes but lethargy rendered even opening his eyelids difficult. He lay still, his eyes shut but his consciousness screamed inside. He stuck his ears out to make out meaningful conversations in the muttering he heard. He heard his mother speaking with a man whose voice he recognized to be Dr. Griffith's.
"His brain scans look normal. His brain chemicals are within normal. He doesn't show signs of injury or cerebral hemorrhage," Dr. Griffith said.
"What do you mean?" Elaine asked in a high but muffled tone.
"This is beyond me."
"What? My son needs help. Look at him."
"You should be glad your son is not insane like we first thought."
"But... The seizures."
"Mrs. Walker, there's nothing wrong with your son."
"What are you talking about?" Elaine's voice was higher, thinner. "Look at him. Does he look okay?"
Dr. Griffith cleared his throat. "He's probably ... faking his paroxysms."
"What? That's ridiculous. You had him sedated for 3 days, and you're telling me he's probably faking his symptoms?"
"Mrs. Walker, I'm afraid you have to take your son home when he wakes up."
Then the voices faded away. Dane fell asleep again.