Everett Ramos is a resident surgeon at Mercy West Hospital in Seattle, Washington. She's on the uphill climb to becoming one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the world, studying alongside her best friends and hoping one day to make a difference...
feel or express sincere regret or remorse about one's wrongdoings
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SOMETHING STICKS to the air, tension, thickness, sweat. She can't be sure. Whatever it is, it's making it hard to breathe, stuck in the corner of the elevator, one hand around the cool metal, another on Callie's elbow, watching her suck in all the lack of air and breathe it back out. The toe of Everett's black heels tap against the elevator floor. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap.
Callie's shoulders grow tenser.
The three of them watch the numbers rise as they crawl higher up the building. Callie's lawyer, Greg, asks if she's doing okay. Callie nods. The air gets stuck in her throat. The words taste like bile in the back of her mouth. She can't spit them out.
The elevator stops.
Everett steps forward along with Greg. She'd promised Hunt to protect Callie, as much as it pained her to look in his eyes, she'd nodded and told him she wouldn't leave her side. Martinez is going to look after all her patients back at the hospital. Everyone else is going to take shifts; one in, one out. But not Everett. She will sit through the whole thing until the sweat sticks her clothes to her body. Is it sweat? Fear?
The doors slide open.
Journalists, photographers, news reporters fill the lobby in front of them. Leeches. The cameras flash in their eyes. Greg disappears into the crowd. Callie and Everett try to keep their eyes down as the journalists push forward. Like a heart. Beating, beating, beating. The thrum of noise. The flickering of camera flashes. They surround them on all sides. Callie's hand slides into Everett's. Leeches sucking the blood out of them. Leeches clinging to their skin. Too much.
Another body barrels through the crowd. His hand curls around Callie's shoulders and he pushes himself to stand in front of her, blocking her from the cameras. Everett glances up. Hunt's ginger hair sparkles in the flashing lights. His eyes are hard and his voice is strong as he orders everyone to step aside.
"What are you doing?" Callie asks him above the noise. He's been in the humdrum end of warzones. This, by the sheen of sweat kissing along his hairline, is much worse. The crowd pulses against them. A heartbeat. A rush of blood. Pulling them under. Pushing them up.
"A bunch of us are taking shifts 'cause we wanted you to have at least one person in court with you the entire time. Ever took them all. So, she needs company"
