The Mobster's Temptation

Chapter 1: Snow White

Liezel

The sleek car pulled up in front of a house made of stone and painted in a classical and simple beige white, and as I peered through the window, I realized that it was a Mediterranean style home with two floors and brown roofings. The tall and thick shrubs around the house were perfectly maintaine, which adds to the expensive vibe of this home.

"Signora," Francisco opened the door for me. Suddenly, when I stepped on the styled cement floorings, my backpack and scrubs felt so out of place. We were in the car for about half an hour, we're still in Seattle but we're now on the quieter and richer side, the smell of the city is non-evident and the sound of loud buzzing cars were nowhere to be found. There was only the sound of a crying kid...?

Napalingon naman ako nang may tumatakbong bata na lumabas mula sa gilid ng bahay. Behind him was a middle aged man in a suit, running after him with a case on his hand that appears to be a first aid kit.

"Ragazzo, vieni qui! devo pulire quella ferita!" The man yelled in rapid Italian.

The kid's blue eyes then widened when he saw me standing in front of the house, mas lalong nanlaki ang kanyang mga mata nang makita niya ang suot kong scrubs, as though my work uniform brought him a very bad memory, and because of the distraction. Nadapa siyang muli. Mas lalong lumakas ang kanyang iyak dahil tumama ang dumudugo niyang mga tuhod sa sahig.

My heart clenched. Poor boy.

I dropped to my knees and helped him sit up as he sobbed. The wound on his kneecaps is bleeding but it looks superficial. It definitely needs some immediate care. I sat back on my thigh as he sat in front of me.

"Hey, kiddo," I gently said and reached for his shaking little hands.

"No, no, no."

"Breathe, honey. You're okay." Malambing kong sabi. "I'm Lizzy." I used the name that my most patients call me.

His cheeks were red and soaked with tears. His slightly long dark hair is messy.

"He was riding his scooter and he fell hard. I'm just trying to help him." The middle aged man said in an accented tone.

I nodded, but my eyes were still on the kid. Holding his hand and making him copy my breathings because it appears that he doesn't speak nor understand English very well.

"Hurt.." He murmured when his hyperventilating stopped.

Francisco who was standing behind me and the man behind the boy froze. I don't know what's so weird about a kid expressing his pain through words.

"I know, honey, it hurts, but it will hurt more if you don't let me clean it.." I said in the most gentle tone. Like I said, it appears that he doesn't understand what I am saying, but my tone which is very opposite of what the man was using on him when he was chasing him. The boy calmed down a bit.

Tone always matters, not only with patients but especially with kids. Even if you want the best for them, they won't listen if you're yelling. In their young and still shaping minds, you are scary and you are a threat, of course they will run and be scared instead of listening.

I let his little hands go softly, so I could open the kit and placed it on my side. The bag on my back doesn't bother me because it only contains my empty lunch box and other nursing goodies.

I could feel the boy tensing when I pulled out the swab sticks with iodine. I ripped them open, and his eyes widened when he saw the color of it, which resembled blood.

"This is called iodine," I showed him it, and he started crying again. "I know it looks scary, but I promise you, it's not gonna hurt—"

"No! No!" The kid threw Italian words at me, which I don't understand, only the word 'Nana'