Page 102 of Bonds of Shame, Bonds of Lust

He responded, "Understood. Three minutes out. Over."

The head nurse handed me a lab coat without a word. I slipped it on absently, checking that everything was ready for her arrival.

Three minutes later, the helicopter hit the deck. The flight crew came out with little Jessica on the gurney, IV already in, bag mask going. She was pale, lips a terrible shade of blue. I had flashes of the crayon heart on my board, her hands on my cheeks. I heard You could be MY mommy! in my head. Not her. Please, anybody but her.

Derek followed the flight team.

I directed the new arrivals. "Resus Room 1 now."

"Lacey. Save her, please. She can't die," Derek pleaded in a terrifyingly flat voice.

He was pale, sweating, jaw set but eyes too wide. "We're going to do everything we can, but you're in the way here and I need you to move."

I sidestepped him before he had time to answer or move, my focus solely on little Jessica lying limp on the gurney.

Our team took over, and my charge nurse announced, "She's in V-fib," and looked up at me expectantly.

I raced into the Resus Room and took over the code from my ER colleagues.

Please, God, help me save this tiny precious girl.

45 - RECOVERY

Lacey

At 3 a.m. Jessica was finally stable. I sat beside Derek in the quiet hush of the PICU waiting area. The fluorescent lights were dimmed for the overnight shift, and the only sounds were the soft beeps of monitors down the hall and the occasional murmur of nurses at the station. Jessica was sleeping now, on the ventilator after the emergency defib, but her vitals were holding.

Derek sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. His face was drawn, eyes red-rimmed, the usual sharp edges of him softened.

We didn't speak at first. I just sat there in my ridiculous outfit, the plunging-neckline dress I'd barely had time to throw a lab coat over, the hem riding high on my thighs even when I tugged it down, the club bracelet still circling my wrist like a brand. The nurse had grabbed a white coat from the rack in the ER to cover me up, but it was open now, and I didn't have the energy to care.

After a few minutes, he spoke, low and rough.

"She's going to make it because of you."

I nodded once. "She's tough. And the team here is excellent."

He exhaled, slow, like the breath had been trapped in his chest for hours. "I almost killed her. I didn't listen. You told me, no intense exertion, no pushing her limits. I thought—I thought a short hike would be fine. Fresh air. Normal. I wanted her to feel normal." His voice cracked on the last word. "My life revolves around her. Everything. Maybe too much."

I didn't know what to say to that. I'd seen it before, the way he hovered, how he researched every decision. It wasn't just protectiveness.

I stood up. "I'm going to get breakfast in the cafeteria. Jess will be out for hours. Join me? It's not great food."

He stood. "Sure," he said, exhausted. "I was raised on mac and cheese and whatever we could scrounge up. Not sure I can eat but I need coffee."

We sat in silence, me eating a breakfast sandwich and him drinking coffee. He looked down at my wrist, and his eyebrows rose just a touch.

"Sorry I pulled you away," he said quietly. "From the Second Circle."

My stomach dropped. The bracelet. He'd seen it. Immediately I felt ashamed. But right behind it, defiance. I'd just saved his daughter. I didn't owe him an explanation.

I nearly growled the words. "You have a problem with how I spend my free time?"

But Derek looked puzzled, then shook his head. "No. Not at all. Glad it's working," he said, flat, tired.

Glad it’s working? Before I could ask what he meant, he sighed and asked, "Lacey. She'll be okay, right?" I could see the tight stress.

I reached over and covered his hand. "She's okay now, Derek. She probably won't even remember a thing. You saved her by calling me as early as you did."