The double doors of the trauma bay hissed open with a sharp sigh that cut through the monotonous hum of the hospital corridor. Dr. Abraham, the chief of emergency medicine, stepped out into the harsh, fluorescent light. He looked tired, but his posture was relaxed as he unclipped his medical chart and offered a brief, reassuring nod.
"Mr. Brooks," he began, pulling off his latex gloves. "Miss Ava is completely stable. We’ve placed her on a high-flow oxygen mask to clear the carbon monoxide from her system. Fortunately, because you pulled her out when you did, there is no permanent thermal damage to her respiratory tract. She just needs some rest, and she will recover soon."
A heavy breath escaped my lungs. The tight knot of panic that had been twisting in my gut since I found her smiling
