Chapter No. 62

Nicholas Carrington:-

Surgery had taken nearly seven hours. I sensed it down in my shoulders, down in my legs, felt each step down the hospital hall drag like I was walking through a pond. My scrubs were plastered to my body, as my arms and head were wet with sweat, and the crisp, surgicidal lights that were installed above me were too bright, making my head hurt. However, the surgery had been a success, and that was all that mattered. My patient was living.

I opened the door of my cabin, the cabin of the director, and closed the door behind me without a stamp. The comfort space welcomed me with a quietness that I so desperately needed after being in an unquiet operative. The curtains were partially closed, and the golden evening light came in, streaking the room in stripes of gold and shadow.

I sank into the leather chair behind my desk, deeply breathless, and picked up my phone to dial Juliet. I wanted to hear her voice, I wanted the reassurance of it, after the hours of blood and b