Chapter 1: Blood on Her Hands
It was the worst night of Stacey’s life.
The hospital door had swung open and two people had rushed in, carrying a little girl on a stretcher. There was a lot of blood, and someone was barking out orders. Stacey rushed to the ER, where the two men placed the stretcher on a table. The girl’s eyes were closed, and she was covered in red. If Stacey hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought the girl was splattered in paint, after a fun but tiring day of creating art.
You are a good doctor, one of her former patients had said. She had saved his life, and he had meant the compliment. But as Stacey observed the little girl, she shuddered, doubting herself and ability to save others.
She is so small. Is she even eight years old?
Her tangled hair spread over her face, which was bruised and broken, as if someone had beaten her. Something about her breathing did not sound right; it was wet, raspy.
“What happened?” Stacey asked as she continued examining the girl. Her breathing was most certainly not right and Stacey’s main concern. Although the external wounds were prominent, it was the internal wounds that scared Stacey, as those could be fatal. She listened to the girl’s breathing, her chest expanded as she inhaled. It sounded as if she was gurgling.
“Her father beat her,” the paramedic said.
The walls seemed to close in on Stacey, and she steadied herself by gripping the side on the table. It took her a moment to pull herself together. She was a doctor. She could handle the situation.
You are a good doctor.
“The neighbours called when they heard her screaming.”
“Where is her mother?” Stacey asked.
“I don’t know,” the paramedic said. “I did not see a woman in the house.”
He watched as Stacey walked around the little girl. Stacey pursed her lips, pushed her brows together, and ignored the man staring at her as if she were a cross, a beacon of faith. He might just be placing his faith in the wrong person.
“I need my team,” Stacey said, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice. “Her rib is broken, and it sounds like it has punctured a lung.”
“Oh my God,” the paramedic said, as if begging God to help them.
But Stacey had to do this herself – God never answered when she called on him. So, she got all of her tools ready as the paramedic showed himself out. She and her team got to work. She had to make sure the girl would stay asleep and then she would cut her open. It was not going to be pretty.
Stacey’s hands were shaking slightly – which they had never done before. She was used to working with blood and people who were dying, but this was the first time that she was faced with a child who had such severe injuries.
The little girl’s father did this to her. It was a terrible thought. A child like this was so innocent, so young and weak. How could she ever have stood a chance? She could not have defended herself. She shouldn’t have been in a situation where she had to. When Stacey looked at the girl, she saw herself. She could have ended up like this…
Stacey focused on saving the girl. She had to try her best.
She opened her up. Her team were all together. They all understood each other well, and they followed her orders without question. The little girl’s lung was pierced – as Stacey had predicted. Stacey removed the bone that had jabbed a hole into it. There was the danger of splinters, and then there was a chance that her lung would collapse.
Stacey’s heart was beating in her throat, and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe, although there was nothing wrong with her lungs. The sight of this child triggered memories of Stacey’s childhood – screaming, fighting, a gun... These memories started clouding her mind. She could not see straight. She struggled to focus. Her breathing quickened.
Calm down.
But just thinking that sent her body into a circle of panic. Her heart beat as if she had just run a marathon, and there was no end to it. Maybe it would explode, and she’d just die.
“Doctor?” one member of her team asked, but she did not reply.
Then the little girl’s body went into shock. She started shaking, and as a result, Stacey dropped the broken rib bone to the floor. She took a step back as everyone in the room scurried to save her. But things were not looking good.
I’ve fucked up, I’ve fucked up, I’ve….
Stacey swallowed back tears, and for a moment she considered holding her ground, but she could not. Everything inside her told her to flee. It was too late; the girl would die.
She turned around and rushed towards the big door. She pushed it open, leaving smudges of blood on the glass, and started to flee. She ran straight into Dr Adam Daniels.
Oh shit. Anyone but him.
