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“Really? I like pink too. Okay, so once Dr. Cole has fixed your arm, we’ll wrap it in a really pretty pink cast. How does that sound?”
Louisa nods before the brave little girl steels herself. I glance at the nurse beside me and ask in English. “Where are her parents?”
The nurse shakes her head solemnly. “She came in alone.”
I sigh. It’s unfair and cruel to leave an innocent young girl like this all alone in the world. An orphan in the blink of an eye. So many children have the same story, the same uncertain future, and I hate knowing the pain and fear they’ll face in the coming days.
Of course there are programs to offer assistance for orphaned children of war and extended families who may be willing to take them in, but that’s not always the case.
I tried to keep up with the children during my first rotation, but there were so many that it became impossible. For my sanity, I lied to myself and imagined each one had a happy ending. Even though, realistically, I know differently. It’s just easier sometimes to believe in the fictional.
By the end of my shift, it feels like I ran a 5k…in the rain and wind, through the mud and then up a hill…wearing a weighted vest and hung over. All I want is to soak in a tub and sleep for a week, but out here in the forests of Columbia, that’s not an option. There is no Hilton nearby. We live in shared tents that make my camping trips as a kid look like a resort stay. Our showers are outdoors and no matter what time of the day, you’re sweating even while you shower, making the entire effort pointless.
“Hey, there you are.”
I look up and see Dr. Rodriguez approaching. The man gives me the creeps. And that’s putting it mildly. It’s my first rotation serving with him and hopefully my last. Something in the way he looks at me sets every warning bell off in my head. And I’m not alone. Several of the nurses and other female staff share the same opinion.
His eyes roam over my covered body, and I tighten my cardigan anyway, as if the thin fabric will somehow shield me from his lecherous gaze.
“How can I help you, Dr. Rodriguez? Did I forget to fill out a chart or something?”
He holds up a bottle of what I can only assume is alcohol of some kind. Alcohol isn’t exactly forbidden since it’s a favorite way for many team members to deal with the stress of the job, but I’ve never been a fan of the hard stuff. I’m a wine and spirits kind of gal.
“A little nightcap?”
“Not tonight, but thank you for the offer.” I hate having to be polite, but he’s technically my boss, and, like I said, I need the job.
He sighs like my rejection hurt him, and I can’t find the energy to really care if I did. I’m exhausted, and if I can’t soak in a tub, then I just want to take my sweaty shower and go to bed beneath my mosquito net.
“I heard about the guy and the kid whose parents were killed,” he says. “Sounds like a tough day. Are you sure you don’t want one little shot? It’ll take the edge off and help you sleep.”
I lean forward and rest my elbows on the wood railing, swallowing my groan of annoyance. Glancing around, I search for anyone who might help get me out of this awkward situation, but dinner is still being served, so this side of the base is empty.
“Come on. Just one shot?” Dr. Rodriguez pushes again.
“I’m really tired and just want to get ready for bed. Next time, swear.”
“Please?” He pouts. “I promise to leave you alone afterward. Look. It’s just, I had a bad day too and could use the company.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out hard. Fine. A shot would help take the edge of the day off, and if it will at least make the man shut up and go away, I’ll do the damn shot.
“Okay, just one, and then you really need to go find Dr. Cole or someone else to drink with. Deal?” I tell him and then turn away as he grabs two plastic cups to pour the alcohol into.
He holds one out to me, and the powerful smell of whiskey invades my nose. He clinks his cup against mine, like there’s anything cheerful to celebrate in this war-torn country. In a hurry to get this over with, I toss back my glass and wince as the bitter taste slides down my throat. It’s almost nauseating, but I manage.
“Thank you, Dr. Rodri—”
“Call me Joe.”
I blink hard, my eyes suddenly tired from the day. I’ve always been a bit of a lightweight, but one shot is a little odd. When was the last time I had a drink, anyway? Back in Chicago? Or at Sarah’s birthday party? That was months ago. No. It was the week before I came to Columbia. Right?
“Dr. Rodriguez, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Joe, please.”
I try to tell him it’s not professional, but my face feels heavy. I take a step back and stumble.
“Whoa, my dear! Careful now.” He rushes forward and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me forward flush to his chest. I try to push back against him, but my arms won’t work.
“Wha-what’s-what’s going on?”
Dr. Rodriguez brushes my light hair from my face, and there are two of him in my vision now. “You’ve been teasing me ever since you arrived.”
No, I haven’t. I’ve barely said more than six words to the man outside of a case.
“And well, I’m done waiting for you to make the first move.”
He leans forward. Black rushes from the corner of my eyes. I try to resist its overwhelming force, but it's relentless, weighing me down, and I've never felt so helpless.
I’m trained to save lives…but who will save me?
