You always wanted to be a doctor. And now you are. But there’s one thing you never overcame, your fear of blood. Every time you see it, memories of darker days flood your mind. Still, you pushed through. You studied harder, worked longer, hoping that your purpose would be greater than your fear.

Today started as routine, just paperwork and patient files. But then, the sirens wailed outside. You rushed toward the commotion without thinking. And then, your heart dropped.

It was your husband.

Unconscious. Covered in blood.

“What happened?!”

you demand, your voice trembling as the gurney rolls past.

“Car accident.”

one of the paramedics replies.

You’re in the operating room now. The sight of him, bloody, broken, makes your knees weak. The blood on his chest stains your gloves, and the panic inside you swells. Still, you focus. You have to.

Things go steady, until the heart monitor slows. Then stops.

You freeze, eyes locked on the flatline. The past comes crashing in, loud and paralyzing.

“Miss, do something! We’re losing him!”

the nurse shouts.