"Dr. Fuller, I didn't…" Andrea stammered.
My index finger twitched again, twice.
This time, everyone saw it.
"It moved! It moved!" The head nurse was more thrilled than anyone. "Eugenia's finger moved!"
Jesse's voice came out unusually firm.
"The patient has regained partial consciousness. Dr. Lambert, I'm asking you to draw up a completely new treatment plan for her condition."
"Treatment?"
At that, Raymond snapped.
"Dr. Fuller, the crash left my wife with a severe head injury. Dr. Lambert performed two craniotomies on her."
"She seized on the operating table. It was all she could do to pull through."
"If you're going to put her through that same agony again, I'd rather let her rest in peace!"
"Dr. Lambert—" Raymond grabbed at his last straw. "I consent to withdrawing treatment!"
He yanked hard enough to twist Dr. Lambert's white coat sideways.
Patients' families from the next room mistook it for a hospital dispute and pulled out their phones to record.
Every eye in the corridor was on them.
Dr. Lambert's tone softened.
"Please, don't be upset. We'll just start with a cranial MRI to assess the extent of the brain damage."
Raymond nodded hard.
This was the rehabilitation ward's first case of a vegetative patient regaining consciousness.
The other families looked at it as though they'd glimpsed hope.
Which was exactly why they were watching the follow-up tests on the patient in Bed 5 so closely.
I heard Dr. Lambert say in a low voice, "Jesse. My office."
The head nurse and a female aide wheeled my bed out of the room together, moving me out.
I left that nightmare of a room behind.
But my body was no easier for it.
I was terrified.
The head nurse tucked a foam pad behind my head.
"Don't be scared. Just think of it as a nap."
The machine hummed and vibrated, and little by little I drifted off.
When I woke again, the nurses were lifting me back onto the transport bed.
The imaging tech handed the report to the head nurse.
She read it through, then turned and made a call.
Were the results bad?
Dread churned in me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
The department head's office.
Hilary Lambert took off his white coat.
"You're the star recruit the hospital director brought in."
He jerked the blinds open.
Not far off, workers were fixing the exterior cladding onto the new building for the branch hospital's neurological rehabilitation department.
Jesse gave nothing away. "Yes."
"Back when I was doing my residency, I kept my mouth shut and did whatever my seniors told me to."
Jesse understood. Dr. Lambert was blaming him for stepping out of line.
"Do you know how much Bed 5 has cost after four years in the rehabilitation ward?"
"The out-of-pocket share of the surgeries, the fees to run the machines, the imported drugs, the aide's wages—none of that's covered by insurance."
"I hear her husband's company's been in trouble lately. He's barely keeping it going."
"If you hadn't rushed to judgment today, for the family it would have been over with. Just one moment's pain."
Just then the internal line rang.
The rush MRI results for Bed 5 were in.
Dr. Lambert opened the computer without hesitation.
Patient: Eugenia Pruitt.
【Brainstem structurally intact; partial cerebral cortical function preserved.】
Jesse pulled up Eugenia's scans from four years ago.
"Dr. Lambert, the patient is showing signs she could wake up!"
He couldn't hide his excitement as he met Dr. Lambert's kindly face.
"Jesse. I'll get a year knocked off your residency, and have you transferred to the new building."
A genuine temptation.
Something jolted through Jesse's palm.
The image of Eugenia calling for help leapt up in front of him.
The thin knuckles standing out, the back of her hand covered in the pinpricks left by IV needles.
Jesse asked calmly, "What do you need me to do, Dr. Lambert?"
