In the gritty streets of Chicago, Katie finds herself at a crossroads, torn between her tumultuous past and an uncertain future. Escaping an abusive relationship, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery, determined to carve out a new path for her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-
The chiming of my phone pierces the tranquility of my sleep. It starts as a soft murmur, gradually growing in intensity until it interrupts my dreams.
Squinting against the intrusion of light, I grope for my phone on the bedside table. The screen casts a soft glow in the dimly lit room, momentarily blinding my sleepy eyes. I furrow my brows in a half-conscious attempt to decipher the caller ID. Eventually the blurry letters clear and I can read Connor's name off of the screen.
"Hey," I answer, my voice still carrying traces of sleepiness.
"Are you really still asleep?"
"Well, clearly not now." I rub my eyes and offer a sarcastic response.
"You have today and tomorrow off work, don't you?" He confirms the details we discussed last night.
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, I have to go to Rock Island to help a young woman with a Type A aortic dissection who needs a valve-sparing root replacement," he explains, delving into the intricate details of his medical responsibilities.
"Babe, I have no idea what that means." I get out of bed, the reality of the day starting to sink in.
"That doesn't really matter; anyway, the surgery won't take all day, and I managed to convince Dr. Latham to stay overnight, and I wondered if you wanted to come."
"The doctor with Asperger's?" I seek clarification.
"Yeah. I mean, it's only twenty minutes in a chopper. What do you say?"
"Sure. Yeah, I'll get us a bag together and come to Med asap." I reply, and we conclude the conversation.
I quickly gather some clothes and toiletries, making sure to include my badge and my gun—my constant companions. Then, I drive to the hospital to meet Connor on the roof, where a chopper awaits us.
"Dr. Latham." Connor places his hand in the small of my back, guiding me over to a man with a flat Jewish hat on his buzzed hair. "This is Detective Katie Jackson."
"Hello, Detective." Latham replies, his voice carrying a robotic quality. "Why is she here?" He turns to Connor, his directness catching us both off guard.
"Uh, well," Connor looks between us awkwardly, clearly unprepared for the bluntness, "I invited her."
"Okay. Well, our patient is waiting." Latham says, addressing Connor as he nods towards the chopper. We board first, and Latham follows suit.
The journey unfolds in relative silence. Latham maintains an upright posture, his gaze fixed straight ahead. It becomes apparent that he may harbor a fear of flying, a subtle observation about the otherwise stoic doctor.
