The Leakage

Part 6: The Mother

Once Ethan recovered from the waves of shock that jolted him just minutes ago, he clutched the ceaselessly vibrating pager at his hip. He read the missed messages once... twice... the third time they finally settled in;

Travis is gone, Aveiro is critical and Rebecca...

Ethan couldn't bring himself to read the rest of the text. His heart couldn't handle its inevitable contents. Frustrated, Ethan ran a precarious hand down his face, his palm pressing into his lips. It took everything in him not to leave vicious bite marks on his index finger. Ethan moved towards the glass and watched his colleagues scrambling around the operating room with haste. The deathly beep was tuned out as he stared straight ahead, fixated on the blinking red lights below. The invariable flash illuminated a light bulb within him;

A clear substance and trouble breathing.

How could Ethan be so daft ?

In the next few hours of Ethan's day from hell, he and Dr. Hirata engendered a preemptive treatment plan based on his educated suspicion. With a congruent nod, June continued with the motions of ordering the medication and delivering the treatment outline for both patients to the appointed nursing team. Now alone in the diagnostics room, Ethan slumped into his expensive tan leather chair to take a much needed break. His head leaned against the headrest and his heavy eyes took a moment's rest. His subdued solitude didn't last long. For no less than five minutes later he received a call from the Visitors Desk.

Ethan bounded through the harshly lit hallway into the waiting room. His perceptive azure eyes scanned the large room from left to right; clocking couples, families and small children, and there she was standing in the far corner wringing her fingers together. She looked nothing like her daughter and yet Ethan knew just who she was - the resemblance in their auras was uncanny. The older woman had short, sandy blonde hair, wore tan slacks and a black peacoat. Her purse was a forest green leather and looked undoubtedly heavy. Her fair features looked distraught and rivaling Ethan's, yet she still had a warmth about her to coincide with her rosy cheeks.

"Ms. Lao," his assertive, level doctoring voice called as he stepped further into the waiting area. She looked at him, taking in his tall frame before crossing the distance. He held his hand out and the two pairs of stormy ocean eyes met. "Dr. Ethan Ramsey."

She slid her aged hand into his, giving it a squeeze and a firm two shakes. Ethan held on, cupping their joined hands with his free one, speaking volumes under the cover of sorrow. Though he kept his expression professionally indifferent.

Donna Lao looked him up and down. He was towering, more handsome than any other doctor she'd come into contact with in the last fifty-five years, and he looked beyond exhausted. The name sounded vaguely familiar but she was too concerned to connect the dots. "How is she? What happened?"

Digging his fists deep into his pockets, Ethan urged, "Let's speak in my office."

Donna nodded her head and followed on his tails into the elevator. Just as the steel doors shut, the seemingly famous name clicked in her mind. "You wrote a textbook, didn't you?" She inquired with a small smirk.

She remembered countless times she found her daughter curled up on the couch by the den window or on a towel in the grass with her nose in a thick green text. She recalled the name and all the times Rebecca would excitedly speak about working for Edenbrook, and then all the times she'd complain about the disillusion of her "asshole boss".

Ethan pressed the button for the fifth floor. "I wrote a few, yes."

The elevator started moving up. As little indicator kept increasing in numbers a short silence befell them. They stood on opposite sides, both of their gazes stuck on the metal doors.