One Life ✓

Chapter 20: The Takeoff Shift

Grace—San Antonio International Airport, San Antonio, TX

About One Week Later

"I don't know...I just hope everyone will be fine. I'm sure they can fend for themselves, it's just..." I trail off, leaning my head onto TC's shoulder amongst the throngs of people waiting for the boarding to begin. "We did need a vacation, but I can't help but feel like the others have too much work on their hands now."

"Don't panic now, just relax," Tee assures me. "You can never go wrong with a little throwback trip."

"Ah, Dubai. Loved that place." I smooth down my dress. I look like a pregnant mess, and I am officially depressed.
I have on an olive-green half sleeve with a paisley sundress over it and my hospital watch still on my left hand, kara on my right. Which reminds me.

When I went through the metal detector, I beeped it, so the airport security interrogated me over my kara, but I got around it by telling them it was religious. Then I had to go through a metal detector again. My kara set it off once more, so they said to take it off. I said I couldn't. Like, seriously, it takes ten minutes to slide off even with a bottle of cream. They let that fly at last though, which spared time because we'd already spent twenty minutes in security. I wished they'd leave me alone (dude, I'm pregnant).

I continue worrying about anything I can get my mind on. "Tee, didn't you already wear those jeans to work yesterday? Do you think the beds will be springy? I don't usually go on vacation. Will everything be okay? Will they go into code black? What if I forget how to be a doctor? What if..."

TC pulls me close to him. "Don't be like Paul, babe. It's just a trip. No one's going to go anywhere or do anything."

The intercom finally crackles. "It is now 8:25 PM, San Antonio time. Emirates' 9:00 flight from San Antonio International Airport to Dubai International Airport will now begin boarding. All military members in service or veterans and their families, please begin boarding. Have your service ID ready for presentation."

I fish my ID from my purse, as does Tee. Mine is laminated and has an old bloodstain on the back. The picture looks nothing like me now. My hair was bunned up day on, day off, and I had these omnipresent scratches all over myself from faceplanting during drills, diving for cover, whacking myself with my gun, catching myself with my helmet, beating others up and getting beat up, and more humiliating incidents. At least TC's actually resembles him.

When the lady takes our tickets and asks for our IDs, she looks closely at mine, and then at me. "Ma'am, are you sure this is yours? Captain Grace Kaur Patel?"

"Yep." I nod. I mentally pray she doesn't flip it over and see the blood.

And, oh, she flips it over. Her jaw goes slack.

"Rough times," I say curtly.

"You're clear. Go ahead." She looks shell shocked. I just give a little chuckle and get on my way, struggling (yes, that's what it's become now) to keep pace behind TC.

Shannon—San Antonio Memorial Hospital, San Antonio, TX

"Sarah just texted me," I announce, looking up from my phone. "Her shift just finished late. Apparently, rumor's been floating around at Chicago Med that they want to sell the psych ward to make it a plastic surgery sector."

"Ew, plastic surgery," Jocelyn agrees. "How can we help?"

"Minus Tee and Grace for four days, we can't go anywhere," Drew reminds us.

"What about a petition? Have us all sign it as Med's sister hospital and send it in?" Paul suggests.

"Something like that." Joce taps her chin. "It's the one way we can help."