A Miracle Indeed
"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I know her injuries are severe, but I'm licensed. I can help her... I need to help her."
The surgeon, Dr. Lane, shook his head, his voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry, Dr. Laurent, but we can't let you operate on someone so close to you. The emotional toll alone-"
"But I'm her best friend!" My voice broke, the desperation raw and uncontained. "I know her body, her health history, her everything. I have to be the one to do this."
Dr. Lane looked at me, then exchanged glances with another with another doctor. "I understand how hard this is," he began gently, "but I have to think about what's best for Claire. If you were in that operating room and something went wrong, your judgment would be compromised."
I opened my mouth to protest again, but then felt Rowan's hand on my shoulder, grounding me. "Dr. Lane," he said, his voice calm and firm, "I think Remi is the best option here. If anyone can save her, it's her. We both know that."
The other doctors hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on them, and then Rowan leaned closer, murmuring something I couldn't quite hear. He pulled strings, wielded his influence in ways I couldn't have imagined, and finally-finally-they nodded.
"All right, Dr. Laurent," Dr. Lane said, his voice steady but his gaze intense. "If you're sure you're up to this, we'll allow it. But please understand- there's a slim chance of success. Her injuries are extensive, and the procedure will be... complicated."
I swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand."
Minutes later, I was scrubbed in, the operating room lights blinding as I took my place at the head of the table. Claire's body lay before me, barely recognizable, her skin charred in places, her breathing shallow. The smell of burnt flesh lingered, and it took every ounce ofcontrol I had to push it out of my mind. I had a job to do, and if I let myself falter even once, she would die.
"Vitals stable?" I asked, my voice cool and clinical, as I tried to lock down the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me.
"Stable, Dr. Laurent," one of the nurses replied, her tone calm, but I could feel the tension radiating off the entire team. They knew how much this meant to me; they knew the stakes. Every pair of eyes was trained on me, but all I saw was Claire. This was her fight now, and I was her last hope.
The first step was the brain bleed. It was as if a minefield lay between me and the Claire I knew-delicate, treacherous, and one misstep would mean the end. I steadied my hands, guiding the instruments carefully, gently maneuvering through damaged tissue, working to drain the blood, relieve the pressure, and stabilize the brain's swelling. Time ticked on, and each second felt like an eternity as I navigated through her injuries, the weight of each decision pressing down on me with agonizing clarity.
"The bleed is under control," I said, my voice shaking with relief, but I forced myself to stay focused. "We need to assess the internal damage."
Moving to her torso, I began repairing her lung, the delicate tissue torn and ragged from the impact. The ribs were cracked, splintered in places, so I worked slowly, piecing them back together with surgical wire, one fracture at a time. Every move I made felt like a battle, but I kept going, praying that somehow, against all odds, Claire would find the strength to hold on.
"Blood pressure's dropping," one of the nurses warned, her voice tight with worry.
"Administer another unit," I ordered, my voice sharper than intended. "We're not losing her."
With each hour, we moved from one broken piece to another, piecing her back together as best as we could. Her leg... it was unrecognizable, the muscle and tissue mangled beyond repair. My stomach twisted as I made the call, the cold, clinical words leaving my mouth like ice.
"We need to amputate her left leg. There's no viable tissue left."
The team nodded, their silence weighted with sympathy, and I could feel the sadness in the room thickening as we carried out the procedure. But I pushed forward, one action at a time, until we reached the final stages.
After hours that felt like lifetimes, I stepped back, my hands trembling, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. The surgery was over. Claire was still breathing. Against all odds, she was alive.
"We did it," I whispered, barely believing the words myself.
Dr. Lane stepped forward, his gaze moving over her ravaged body, a sad smile on his face. "Yes. But the damage... it's extensive, Dr. Laurent. Her burns cover most of her body, and her leg..." He hesitated. "She'll survive, but her life... it won't be easy."
I nodded, my heart breaking as I looked down at her, seeing the ghost of my best friend lying there, barely clinging to life. She was burned beyond recognition, her body ravaged by trauma, but she was alive. She survived.
Slowly, I pulled off my gloves, my eyes never leaving her face. I wanted to touch her, to reassure myself that she was still with me, but I knew I couldn't. All I could do was watch as the nurses covered her, the machines beeping in a quiet, steady rhythm that signaled life.
Rowan was waiting in the hallway when I stepped out, my scrubs soaked with sweat, my legs barely able to hold me up. His face softened when he saw me, a mixture of relief and sorrow in his gaze.
"She's alive," I managed, my voice cracking. "But... she's... she's not the same."
Rowan reached out, his hand a steady weight on my shoulder as he guided me to a seat. "You did everything you could, Remi. You gave her a chance."
I nodded, tears streaming down my face, and I didn't bother to wipe them away. "She's my best friend, Rowan. I just... I wanted her to have everything, and now... her life will never be the same."
Rowan squeezed my shoulder, his voice soft, filled with a pain that mirrored my own. "You saved her. Whatever comes next... she'll face it because you gave her that chance. You did that, Remi.”
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