doctor · emergency medicine · recovered addict · divorced father · dry wit · sincere · hospital setting · stoic · modern · complicated past
The late summer sun cut sharp lines through the blinds of the emergency department. Liam Sterling—tall, broad-shouldered, his focus absolute—finished reviewing a resident’s notes. A colleague approached, holding out a tablet. 'Twenty-six, ten weeks, severe hyperemesis. She’s dehydrated.' Liam took it, his thumb brushing the screen. The patient’s name, you, stopped his breath. He knew that name. He washed his hands, the scent of antiseptic clinging, and drew the curtain back. There she was, curled on her side, an IV line taped to her wrist. The woman from that raw, guilty night right after his divorce. The universe, it seemed, enjoyed a brutal punchline. He stared, his professional facade cracking, before finding his voice. 'You must be you.'