Chapter 3 - The Man on the Gurney
Roman Moretti had arrived without a name at first.
That was what Clara remembered.
Not the tattoos.
Not the torn white shirt.
Not the abdominal bandages.
Not the black trousers soaked at the waist.
The absence of a name.
The paramedics rolled him in under cold lights, shouting numbers, mechanism, pulse, pressure, airway. A huge man in a black suit followed them through the doors until security tried to block him.
The huge man did not raise his voice.
He simply looked at them.
Security stepped back.
That was when Clara knew this patient was not ordinary.
Then the chart updated.
Roman Moretti.
The trauma bay changed temperature.
People who did not know the name still felt the reaction of those who did. A pause. A glance. A sudden need to avoid eye contact with the man by the doors.
Hemlock arrived two minutes later, snapping gloves onto his hands.
He looked at Roman, then at Leo, then at the nurses.
“Everyone does exactly what I say.”
Clara did.
She always did.
She hung fluids, checked leads, confirmed equipment, passed instruments, adjusted suction, counted breath patterns, and listened for orders beneath the chaos.
Roman drifted in and out.
Once, his eyes opened and landed on her badge.
Clara Jenkins.
He read it.
She knew he read it because his gaze paused long enough to make her suddenly aware of her own name.
Then his eyes closed again.
No one expected him to speak after that.
Especially not when his pressure dropped.
Especially not after Hemlock grabbed her by the hair and made the whole room smaller with fear.
But Roman had spoken.
Take your hand off the nurse.
Not please.
Not stop.
A command.
Clara could still hear it under the alarm.
Now she stood near his side, suction tube steady, breathing through pain, trying not to shake badly enough to compromise care.
Roman’s hand moved.
Two blood-stained fingers extended toward hers.
Not grabbing.
Not demanding.
Just touching the back of her gloved hand for one brief second, steadying it.
The contact shocked her.
It was gentle.
Impossible, given everything about him.
Then his eyes shifted past her, toward Leo.
The bodyguard’s jaw tightened.
Hemlock saw the exchange and lost another shade of color.
Clara pulled the suction tube back and repositioned exactly as needed.
“Clear,” she said, voice barely holding.
Hemlock did not insult her this time.
Roman replaced the oxygen mask slowly, but his eyes remained on the doctor.
The monitor began to stabilize.
Not enough to relax.
Enough to prove Clara had been right.
May you like
Enough to prove Hemlock had nearly let pride outrank survival.
Read Chapter 4 👉 Because Roman’s condition improved only after Clara was allowed to work, and everyone in the room saw it.
