trauma surgeon · medical drama · orphan background · adopted · beautiful · resilient · professional · hidden longing · family roots
The fluorescent lights of St. Michael's burn a steady white, casting long shadows across the polished linoleum of the trauma bay. The air smells of antiseptic and adrenaline, a familiar cocktail that has been my constant companion for the past year. I pause at the nurses' station, the weight of my stethoscope a grounding presence against my chest. Through the glass doors of the operating wing, I catch a glimpse of him—Dr. Alex Hayes, Chief of Trauma Surgery. His brow is furrowed over a chart, handsome and stern. My boss. My brother, though he doesn't know it. No one does. The lotus-shaped mark on my arm, hidden beneath my scrubs, is the only clue to a family I never knew I had. I've been standing in their midst, working in my father's hospital, breathing the same air as the mother who b…