𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 50

I was whistling as I walked down the corridor, headed to my office. Honestly, I just wanted to go home—Aisha must've left the studio by now. But I'd forgotten an important case file and had to come back to the hospital to pick it up.

From a little distance, I noticed a sudden rush near the emergency wing. A stretcher was being wheeled in at full speed, surrounded by nurses and residents. I paused. It wasn't unusual—trauma cases came in every day.

When I finally reached my cabin and turned to look back, the stretcher was gone, but blood trailed along the floor.

A lot of it.

I swallowed hard. That... wasn't normal.

Someone was hurt. Badly.

I see injured people every day—it's part of the job. But this time... something felt wrong. An unease settled deep in my chest.

Trying to shake the feeling, I walked in and opened the drawer to grab the file. Just then, the door flew open with a loud bang.

A nurse stood at the threshold, breathless. "Sir... there's been a very bad accident. The girl's in critical condition—Dr. Mathur asked me to inform you immediately."

My instincts kicked in.

Dropping the file on my desk, I stepped forward. "What exactly happened?"

"Sir... once you see her, you'll understand. Her whole face is covered in blood. Nobody can even make out what she looks like. And sir... I don't think it's just a car accident. Her clothes are torn at some places—violently. Like someone attacked her."

My jaw tightened.

"Where is she now?"

"Already in the OT. They're prepping her."

I didn't wait for more. I rushed down the hall, my footsteps echoing sharply. Reaching the pre-op area, I pushed open the door to the changing room.

I kicked off my shoes and shoved them into the locker, pulling on the sterile hospital clogs. Then I grabbed a fresh pair of scrubs, quickly pulling the shirt over my head and tying the drawstring on the pants as my mind raced.

Why did this feel so... off?

I washed my hands thoroughly, scrubbing up to the elbows. The cold water hit my skin, but it was the chill in my chest that really got to me. One of the nurses handed me my surgical cap and mask.

"Here, sir," she said gently.

I nodded, slipping them on without a word.

Another nurse helped me don my sterile gloves and the surgical gown. My fingers trembled slightly—not from fear, but from a strange, gnawing anxiety I couldn't explain. I adjusted the mask and took a breath.

From the window outside the OT, I could see several staff members gathered. Too many.

That wasn't standard. Not unless...