” Dad grabbed Carla’s arm. “Get me the chief now.”
Carla glanced through the glass partition toward the trauma bay. She looked at me — gowned, gloved, my badge hanging from my scrub top. She read the name. Read it again.
Her eyes went wide for just a fraction of a second.
I gave a small shake of my head. Not now.
Carla composed herself. “Sir, the chief continue reading …
