CASSANDRA'S POV~
I was adjusting the IV line, my fingers moving gently over the patient’s wrist as I checked the pulse. Mrs. Lorne, my new patient, had barely slept all night; her breathing was shallow, and she kept murmuring in pain. I smoothed down her blanket and offered her a soft smile.
“You’re doing great, Mrs. Lorne. Just a little more, okay? I’ll bring you some warm water soon.”
Her frail fingers tightened slightly around mine and I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. There was something sacred about moments like these. The quiet connection. The trust. I didn’t mind the weight of it—I carried it proudly.
I reached for the clipboard at the foot of her bed, scribbling down her vitals when a loud, sudden noise burst through the hallway. Shouting. A voice raised in frustration.
