Forgery

"Until I find the one who forged my signature... no one is allowed to step in or out of this hospital."

The verdict has been given.

A man, clad in a police uniform, stepped in, hand on his gun belt.

"And on whose authority is this protocol exercised?" His condescending voice questioned Dr Rayleigh. Clearly, the security wasn't happy about it.

"On mine."

A new voice answered—a male.

Our heads turned to him. It was the dean of medicine—Dr. Alex Langford.

The hallway, full of people, moved out of their way in respect to the old soul. A Phoenix. His power was extraordinary. As he walked, it felt as though fire engulfed the path. It felt so...warm. Even I, unfamiliar with his presence, felt like bowing to him. His dark complexion made him stand out, too like a leader.

"Why aren't we moving?" His polite voice asked the security. Seriousness replaced the pissed look on his face. Grabbing the collar telecom, he instructed,

"Shut down all exits. It's gonna be a while."

And then, Dr Alex Langford turned to Dr Rayleigh. The same polite smile stays consistent. Dr Rayleigh's stance changed, more relaxed. He acknowledged, "Dr Langford."

"Hmm...it appears as though decisions go through you faster than they go through me, Dr Rayleigh." Dr Langford said, his hands interlocked behind.

"I apologise, Dr Langford. But my patient's life seems to be on the line. Something is going on. And I want to make sure my patient is—" Dr Rayleigh's speech cut off as Nurse John and Nurse Darla rushed in,

"Jean is in critical condition again!" John exclaimed.

"Mathew is in critical condition!" Darla informed. Both news came simultaneously. And I almost missed hearing my son's name.

When I realised, my eyes widened.

I took one look at Dr Rayleigh. He, with his eyes, gestured me to Dr Taylor, who was already wearing her stethoscope! I rushed with her to Jean.

Meanwhile, Nurse Sheela handed Dr Rayleigh his stethoscope when Alex held Rayleigh's arm.

"Next time, leave the decisions to me."

Alex's instructions were acknowledged with a straightforward, curt nod.

I watched Nurse John and Dr Taylor sprint into the isolation room. The protective gear was barely worn.

"We need to cut him open," her muffled instructions came. My eyes widened. Sometimes...I wished I didn't have this incredible power of hearing. I imagined...a normality. But...

This same boon as a werewolf keeps my heart at ease when I hear my child's feeble voice from any distance on this planet. He is...and forever will be...a part of me.

Five gruelling hours of surgery on Jean's lungs. One of them was almost depressed in structure. The cells are necrotising. I stood against the glass for five long hours, never once caring about my discomfort or that my feet were swelling up.

And when Dr Taylor came out, she came with an ice pack from the changing station between the isolation ward and the open room.

"You should trust the doctors more, Elaine. You didn't have to overlook for five hours."

"I do trust the doctors, Healer Taylor. It's just...my son..." I broke into sobs.

The day was too chaotic.

We haven't found the culprit yet.

I aimlessly walked into Dr Rayleigh's cabin. There, I watched him staring at the ceiling blankly. His neck rested on the headrest of his swivel chair. He was still in surgery uniform.

Then...The words fell out.

"The drug...isn't working." He said.

My lips...they started wobbling. I didn't know what to say anymore.

Mathew O'Connor's condition was better than my child's. Not that I was comparing. But if the drug didn't work on such a case, it was impossible it'd work on Jean either.

"I'm sorry, Elaine. I'm so sorry." He said out of nowhere. I swore I heard his voice crack. His deep sniffle made me want to crush him in an embrace. He was feeling guilty because...

He couldn't save Mathew.

"It's not your fault, Dr Rayleigh. He couldn't have done it without you, would he?" I said, walking closer.

"I heard...I heard Mathew heard his parents say goodbye to him. You bought them that time." I said, now standing right beside him. Just as I wanted him to, Rayleigh clutched into my embrace.

I didn't feel him shedding tears. Just a heartfelt hug.

And I knew I couldn't leave him here all alone. His cabin had couches.

3 hours later, we kept each other quiet company. He was checking patient files. I was drowning myself in knowledge from his lent books. His little notes by the end of each page and paragraph were helping me a lot. Also, this was how he studied. And my respect for him grew multifold.

1:37 am—He saw me yawning. He yawned too. It was contagious. We looked at each other and laughed.

"Oh Goddess...only you have made me laugh while the situation was so dense." He muttered under his breath. But I heard it.

"You heard it, didn't you?" He said, closing his files softly. Shyly, I nodded, "Yeah..."

"I'm too sleepy after today. And if I've got any cases, nurses will page me to wake me up." He informed, standing up. But the fact is, he didn't have to tell me unless he wanted me to...

"Do you want me to sleep as well, Dr Rayleigh?" I asked, closing my books too.

"Hmm...you're quick, Elaine. And I'm too tired to deny that." I chuckled at his response.

He pulled the resting chair closer to the couch. In his drawers, he kept inflatable duvets and pillows. He was so resourceful.

Switching the small lights off in the cabin, letting the moonlight seep in through the giant French windows, he tucked us in. And...it felt like an adult, unromantic, friendly sleepover.

"Goodnight, Ms Elaine."

"Goodnight, Dr Rayleigh."

And that was how, we wound up our day. I couldn't help but think, however...

Is this how our relationship would always feel? Platonic? Unromantic? Filled with respect rather than courtship? I didn't like it much.

In fact...I wanted to change it.