(Sloane)
I closed the door and watched her drive away. Then I turned and walked back into the hospital.
The exhaustion was still there. The stress was still there. The divorce was still happening in eight days.
But somehow, knowing Mom was here, knowing I had her support, made it all feel a little more manageable.
I walked through the main entrance and headed toward the elevators. The hospital was busy with the usual afternoon rush. Nurses hurrying between floors. Residents reviewing charts. Families waiting for news about their loved ones.
I pressed the button for the surgical floor and leaned against the elevator wall. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from one of the residents.
*Dr. Reid, we need you in the ER. Trauma incoming. Possible cardiac injury. ETA 5 minutes.*
I sigh
