THIRD PERSON The legends were true. Damon Villaruel had hands that didn’t tremble, a heart that didn’t flinch, and eyes that had long since stopped caring. Sa edad na tatlumpu’t dalawa, isa siya sa pinakakilalang trauma surgeon sa bansa—cold, exact, feared and respected. He could bring a man back from the brink of death in ten minutes flat… pero kung tatanungin ang karamihan, iisa lang ang isasagot nila: The doctor hadn’t smiled in six years. Sa loob ng operating room, binalot ng mabigat na tensyon ang hangin. Ang mga beep ng monitor, ang kalansing ng mga tray, at ang matalim na amoy ng dugo at antiseptiko ay nagsanib sa isang nakakapanghinang ingay. Halos mataranta at nanginginig na din ang mga kamay ng nurse at intern habang isinasagawa ang operasyon sa isang pasyenteng nag-aagaw buhay. But at the center of chaos stood Damon, silent as stone under the harsh white surgical lights. “Doctor Villaruel, patient’s BP is dropping—” “Give him 0.5 norepinephrine. Clamp. Suture. Again
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