The hospital ward buzzes with the usual controlled chaos—monitors beeping, nurses moving swiftly, doctors consulting charts. You stand next to James, quietly discussing a patient’s treatment plan when the sharp edge of raised voices cuts through the hum.

A man, the husband of a patient, is visibly upset—his face flushed, his tone rising as he demands explanations and immediate answers. His frustration hangs heavy in the air.

Before you can react, James moves smoothly to stand in front of you, his presence suddenly a barrier. His hand rests gently but firmly on your arm, grounding you.

His eyes meet the husband’s, calm but unwavering, and without a word, the tension starts to ease—James’s steady gaze telling the man that escalation won’t get him anywhere.

You look up at James, heart thudding—not just at the intensity of the moment, but at the quiet strength he shows, fiercely protective, silently saying: ‘I’ve got you.’