Chapter Two

Zaria sat on the edge of the bench, her hands not shaking slightly as she shoved her bloodied scrubs into her bag. Her eyes were dry and sore like she’d cried without realizing it. She hadn’t. She couldn’t even afford to. Imagine people clinging onto their lives while she just stood there in tears, alive and well. 

The ER had finally calmed. Or maybe the chaos had become a familiar sound. But even in the silent room, she could still hear the man’s voice echoing around her. 

Your eyes.

When she’d finally left the ER, she spent the next 30 minutes inspecting her eyes. But when she looked in the mirror, it was the usual same shade of dull brown. Nothing special. She and nearly 80% of the world had brown eyes. 

The locker room door creaked open behind her, startling her from her thoughts. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you”, said a familiar voice. 

Dr. Kareem leaned against the frame, a cup of coffee in one hand and a clipboard wedged between his armpits. His scrubs were smudged, the sleeves rolled up. There were dark rings around his eyes but his posture was relaxed…almost detached, in the way that only seasoned physicians could manage after a disaster. 

Zaria straightened, tempted to wipe an imaginary tear from her eye. “Hey, Dr. Kareem.”

He studied her for a second. “You’re still here.”

“Could say the same for you”, she offered a weak smile. 

“I get paid to be.” He stepped into the room, gently setting the clipboard on the table next to him. “You look like someone who just walked out of a storm and didn’t know she was soaking wet.”

“I’m fine, Dr. Kareem.” But she couldn’t meet his eyes so she focused on her bag. 

“Are you? It was tough there. Lots of people didn’t…”

Her breath hitched at the thought of people going to bed that night missing some family members and friends forever. 

Dr. Kareem took a slow sip of his coffee. “You did a good job back there. I know it was a lot to handle in that moment. You kept that one patient alive long enough for us to stabilize. Apparently, he was barely breathing when he was brought in.”

“It was just muscle memory, doc. You know that”, she said, her voice slightly wavering as she spoke. 

Dr. Kareem tilted his head. “Except something’s not sitting right.”

Zaria’s chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

“Well”, he said slowly, “The medics said his injuries were bad…like call-the-coroner bad. They had started preparing his time of death en route. But by the time we got to him, his wounds had almost closed. Not fully, but…” his voice trailed off, eyeing her. 

“Adrenaline’s a hell of a drug. Maybe they overestimated the damage. I mean, it was chaotic back in the ward.”

“Maybe”, her mentor agreed. “But I’ve been doing this for over a decade. I know the difference between ‘overestimated’ and ‘impossible.” When Zaria froze, he chuckled lightly. “Listen, I’m not trying to freak you out. It’s just that you looked rattled earlier.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder. “I appreciate it, really. I’m just very tired.”

“Take a moment for yourself, Zaria. Go home. Rest. Process. Nights like this can find a way of crawling under your skin.”

A brief memory of the man’s skin healing itself crossed her mind. 

“I’d love to”, she said with a short breath. “But I can’t afford to fall behind.”

“You’ll burn out.”

“I’m already on fire”, she muttered. 

He smiled softly at her. “That’s what worries me. Good night, Zaria.”