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“I was at lunch. Just like you were two hours ago. You told me to go.” I scan the chart again to familiarize myself with the extent of her injuries. “Now answer my questions.”

A familiar voice, soft and faint, replies, “Glad to see you finally grew a pair.” She coughs before continuing. “I went outside for some fresh air. Took a seat on the bench. This guy started yelling when I stood up to come in. Claiming I killed his sister. Before I knew it, he drew a knife and stabbed me. Ran off when a car pulled up.”

Taking her hand, I squeeze. “The best place to get stabbed is right outside A&E, right?”

That draws a smile from Jen, or the best she can offer in her situation.

As the lift doors slide open, Dr. Grieves steps out. “No time for chitchat, ladies. We have work to do.”

As we wheel her down the hallway, I whisper, “You’d think he likes you with how willing he is to save your life. If it were me, he probably wouldn’t be so quick about it.”

“But I would.” Jen’s hand tightens around mine. “Don’t let him do all the work. You’ve got what it takes to do this by yourself. I’d be honored to be your first solo patient.”

Dr. Grieves grunts when his pager buzzes again. “Fuck. They need me back downstairs. Looks like you’ll get your wish, Dr. Hilbert. Two gunshot victims are being brought in. What the hell is going on tonight? They were also outside hospital when this happened.”

I don’t have time to process his words. Right now, all that matters is fixing the damage done to Jen and getting her back on her feet as quickly as possible.

“Go. I got this. When I’m finished, I’ll report in. See if you need help.”

Thankfully, Jen’s injuries were relatively minor. The surgery goes off without a hitch. I close her up and send her to post-op in under an hour.

After washing up and grabbing a bottled water, I head for the board to find Dr. Grieves. A quick scan tells me he’s in OR four.

I scrub in again, then step in to lend a hand.

“Took you long enough.” He keeps his gaze fixed downward, a deliberate act to maintain focus on his task. “Take over for this incompetent wannabe surgeon. And here I thought you were our weakest link. Seems I was mistaken. How did it go?”

The other doctor, seemingly unimpressed, slides over and rolls his eyes. “Is he always in such a pleasant mood?”

I don’t know him. He must be new.

“Whatever do you mean?” I grin, but he can’t see it because of my mask. “I’ve got this. You can go.”

“No. Stay,” Grieves barks out. “Maybe you’ll learn something from her.”

“Is that a compliment?” I grab the forceps to free up one of his hands.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” When he looks up, his eyes hold an unexpected concern. “How bad was it?”

“Not bad. Minor tissue damage and a tiny nick to her spleen. She got lucky.” I switch out the forceps and apply a gauze pad to stem the flow of blood. “This one didn’t fare as well. Do we know what happened?”

“Our job isn’t to know the details. It’s only to fix them,” Dr. Grieves grumbles. “Better not to know in most cases.”

I don’t bother disagreeing. The man is heartless, with a God complex. It’s wiser to let it go than to try to persuade him otherwise.

Two hours after stepping into the OR with Dr. Grieves, I’m told to close. It never ceases to amaze me how long it takes to fix someone. The body is a complex machine, and when a person is shot three times at close range, the damage is extensive.

“She’s not out of the woods yet,” Dr. Grieves mutters when I step into the prep room to clean up. “Her partner wasn’t as fortunate. Died on the table an hour into surgery. A difficult recovery lies ahead for Ms. Copeland.

My movements falter at the mention of our patient’s name. I went in without even bothering to check the chart. With all the chaos happening tonight, and knowing we were short-staffed, it didn’t occur to me that my people carry guns… and were likely involved.

Rushing from the room, I catch up with the orderly as he wheels my head guard into recovery. “Wait! Let me see her chart.”

He hands it to me. As I open it, my eyes sting, blurring the words and making it hard to read her name.

Sasha Copeland.

There is no information about how this happened. Just her name staring back at me.