14. Lucinda

14

LUCINDA

L ucinda’s apartment was tranquil that morning. She liked it that way—controlled, predictable. She had gotten up early before the sun rose, slipping into her running gear for a quick jog before her shift. It was a ritual she’d come to rely on in recent months, a way to clear her mind and push her body until her thoughts were as sharp as a scalpel.

The rhythmic pounding of her feet against the pavement had always helped her focus and gave her a sense of control when everything else felt like it was spiraling. But today, even after five miles, her thoughts were tangled.

It had been weeks since she’d left Becky, but Lucinda still hadn’t figured out how to make sense of it. She had told herself that walking away was the right decision, that she wasn’t ready for what Becky wanted. But no matter how many times she replayed the conversation in her head, the lingering ache in her chest didn’t go away.

Lucinda finished her run and went home, her breath heavy as she stood in her apartment’s kitchen as she sipped. Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she glanced at it, expecting another work email or a reminder for her shift.

But it wasn’t from the hospital. It was her dad.

Lucinda hesitated for a second before swiping the screen. She hadn’t spoken to her father in a few weeks. The last time they’d talked, he’d been checking in, as he always did, to make sure she was taking care of herself. Lucinda had brushed him off with the same reassuring words, "I'm fine, Dad."

But she could tell he hadn’t been convinced.

"Hey, Dad," she answered, her voice softer than usual.

"Lucinda." Her dad’s voice came through, warm but tinged with concern. "It’s good to hear your voice. Thought you might’ve gone off the grid or something."

She forced a smile, even though she knew he couldn’t see it. "I’ve just been busy with work. You know how it is."

"I do," he said. "But that’s exactly why I’m calling. You’ve gone radio silent. Even your mum’s worried, and you know she’s not one to say anything."

Lucinda’s chest tightened. Her parents had always been supportive, though they had learned long ago not to hover too much. She was fiercely independent, and they respected that. But they could still tell when something was off, even from thousands of miles away.

"I’m fine, really," Lucinda repeated, but even she didn’t believe the words this time. "Just...been in my head a lot lately."

There was a pause on the other end, her father waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn’t, he sighed.

"You know, Lucinda, you’ve always been like this," he said, his voice gentle but probing. "You need to feel like you’ve got everything under control all the time. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. But sometimes..." He trailed off as though carefully choosing his words. "Sometimes I wonder if it’s doing you more harm than good. "

Lucinda frowned, her fingers tightening around the water bottle. "What do you mean?"

"Well, take this, for example," her dad continued, his tone soothing but firm. "You and that woman—now, I don’t know the details, and I’m not trying to pry—but I can’t help but think you’re running because things got messy because you couldn’t control where it was going."

Her pulse quickened, the mention of Becky catching her off guard. "Dad, it’s not like that," she began, defensive. "It’s complicated."

God, she couldn't believe her mom told her dad about Becky! How could her parents be this involved in her life with a whole country and ocean between them?

"Life is complicated," he replied, without missing a beat. "But the way you’ve been dealing with it lately, you go silent. You push people away. You throw yourself into work, hoping it’ll make everything go away. But it won’t."

Lucinda’s jaw clenched as she leaned against the kitchen counter. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about this before, hadn’t questioned her own motives. But hearing her father put it into words made the truth harder to avoid.

"You think I left Becky because I wanted control?" she asked, her voice quieter now, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t expected.

"I think you left because you were scared," her dad said gently. "And when you’re scared, you try to control everything around you. It’s how you cope. It’s how you’ve always coped. But maybe..." He paused as though considering the weight of his words. "Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let go a little. To trust that things don’t have to be perfect for them to work out."

Lucinda pressed her lips together, her heart pounding in her chest. She hated how right he was. She’d spent so much of her life trying to keep everything neat and orderly, trying to avoid the chaos that came with emotions and relationships. She’d told herself that Becky was asking for too much, that things were moving too fast. But deep down, Lucinda knew it was her own fear of losing control that had pushed her to run.

"I just don’t know if I can do that," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let go."

"You can," her dad said firmly. "But you have to want to. You have to believe that it’s okay not to have all the answers. To let somebody else help you steer your life."

Lucinda stared out the window of her apartment, watching the early morning sun break through the clouds. She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that she could loosen her grip, that she could stop being so afraid of where life might take her.

But it was hard. It was terrifying.

"I’m not saying it’ll be easy," her dad added, as though reading her thoughts. "But you’ve got people in your life who care about you, Lucinda. You’ve got Becky, if you’ll let her in again. You don’t have to carry everything on your own."

Lucinda blinked back at the sudden sting of tears, her throat tightening. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d been carrying, how much weight she’d put on herself to keep everything together.

"I miss her," she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

Her dad’s voice softened. "I know you do. And I’m willing to bet she misses you too. But you won’t know unless you let yourself be vulnerable."

Lucinda nodded, even though he couldn’t see her.

She cleared her throat. "But what if she doesn't want me anymore? I said some terrible things."

Richard was silent for a moment. "That's her choice to make, LuLu. But at least you tried and grew from the person you were before."

The whine of sirens echoed in the distance as Lucinda stood in the hospital's emergency room. Her shift had ended hours ago, but she'd stayed late to finish paperwork, letting herself drown in the mundane tasks to quiet her racing thoughts. Her eyes burned from fatigue, but sleep hadn't come easily since she left Becky.

The soft hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead when her pager went off, dragging her attention back to the moment. She glanced down at it, her stomach twisting when she saw the code flash across the screen. Multiple casualties.

Her heart skipped, the cool professional demeanor she'd perfected cracking at the edges as she reached for the intercom. "All trauma teams to the emergency department. Prepare for mass casualty intake."

Lucinda's throat felt dry as she slipped into her scrubs, moving with the speed and efficiency drilled into her from years in the ER. Her personal turmoil was shoved into the back of her mind where it belonged. Now, she was Dr. Everett, head of trauma, nothing more.

She was still snapping on her gloves when the first ambulance roared in. The bay doors opened, and the smell of blood and burned rubber hit her before she even saw the patients. Her team rushed forward, but Lucinda held back, scanning for the severity of the injuries.

"Car pile-up on the interstate," one of the EMTs reported breathlessly as they unloaded a woman on a stretcher, her leg twisted at an unnatural angle. "Multiple vehicles. Semi-trucks involved. It's a mess out there, Doc."

Lucinda nodded, her fingers tightening around the clipboard in her hand. She could feel the tension in the air, the way her team braced themselves for the onslaught of chaos that was about to follow.

"Let's move, people!" she shouted. "Set up for triage in the secondary bay. Severe injuries here first. Get the minor injuries processed and out of the way. We need space."

There was no time to dwell on anything but the job. The hospital buzzed with urgency as more ambulances arrived, lights flashing against the darkened windows. Lucinda’s mind whirred, her focus solely on the patients as they were wheeled in, one after another. Fractures, head trauma, internal bleeding—the injuries ran the gamut, but they had to keep moving.

That’s when she heard it: Becky’s voice.

She froze for the briefest of seconds, her hand hovering over a chart. It was unmistakable, the low, commanding tone she knew too well.

"Get that barricade up!" Becky’s voice barked through the radio. "And keep the bystanders back. We don’t need another damn accident."

Lucinda turned, catching a glimpse of Becky through the emergency room doors, standing just outside the entrance and organizing the flood of emergency responders towards the highway. Her sandy hair, usually tied back, had come loose, strands framing her face in the fluorescent emergency lights. She looked as composed and strong as always despite the chaos around her.

A sharp pain lanced through Lucinda’s chest, one she hadn’t felt in weeks. It was different seeing her now—so close, yet so distant. Their breakup had been messy, full of unspoken words and unresolved tension. Seeing Becky at a distance during smaller incidents had been manageable. This? This was something else.

"Dr. Everett?" One of the nurses tapped her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts .

Lucinda cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus. “Right. Stabilize the leg first. Prep for surgery. I’ll check on the next incoming patient.”

But her eyes darted back to Becky. She hadn’t seen Lucinda yet. Good.

Lucinda tried to shake the feeling, the familiar pang of longing mixed with frustration. There was no time to dwell on the past, not when lives were at stake. But it was hard to ignore the knot forming in her chest as she watched Becky take control of the scene, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

She turned back to the task at hand, gesturing to her team. "Let's go! We need to move faster." She couldn’t afford to lose focus, not now.

Minutes passed like hours as Lucinda worked tirelessly, moving from patient to patient, issuing orders, stitching wounds, and setting bones. The ER felt like a warzone—screams, moans of pain, and the constant clatter of medical equipment surrounded her. Her team, though well-practiced, was already beginning to show signs of exhaustion, but they pushed on, knowing they couldn’t stop until every patient was treated.

Then came another wave of incoming patients. Lucinda’s pager beeped urgently as her phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw the message: Highway triage needed. Her stomach tightened. She knew what that meant.

Lucinda quickly assessed the situation in the ER. The immediate crisis had slowed; her team could handle things here for the moment. With a deep breath, she turned to her second-in-command, Dr. Lisa Gomez.

"You're in charge here for now," Lucinda said, her voice firm but tired. "I’m heading to the scene."

Gomez nodded, her expression resolute. “Got it. Be careful.”

Lucinda grabbed her trauma kit, slipping on her jacket as she made her way toward the exit. The air outside was thick with humidity, the distant rumble of thunder hinting at the worsening storm overhead. The flashing lights of ambulances and patrol cars illuminated the scene in pulses, bathing the road in an eerie glow. Her and her team were driven to the scene.

As Lucinda approached the highway, her breath caught in her throat. The wreckage was worse than she’d anticipated. Cars were strewn across the asphalt like broken toys, twisted metal and debris scattered everywhere. A semi-truck lay on its side, its cargo spilling onto the road, and several smaller vehicles were crushed beneath its weight. EMTs and firefighters swarmed the scene, trying to pull survivors from the wreckage.

And there, in the middle of it all, was Becky.

Her heart raced as she spotted the fire chief standing tall amidst the chaos, directing her team with an authority that made Lucinda’s chest tighten. Becky’s uniform was streaked with grime, her face set in a determined scowl as she tried to maintain order.

Lucinda squared her shoulders and marched toward the command post. There was no avoiding this. Not here, not now.

As she neared, Becky caught sight of her. For a moment, their eyes locked, and the world seemed to slow around them. Lucinda saw the flash of surprise in Becky’s eyes, followed by something else, something she couldn’t quite read.

Becky broke the gaze first, turning back to the task at hand. “Dr. Everett,” she said, her tone too formal. “Glad you made it. We’ve got a situation.”

Lucinda nodded, her voice steady. “I can see that. What’s the status?”

Becky gestured to the highway. “It’s a mess. We’ve got multiple casualties trapped in the vehicles, and the rain’s making it harder to get them out. Some of the wreckage is too unstable to move without more equipment.”

Lucinda scanned the scene, her mind already racing with medical assessments. She saw the firefighters struggling to pry open a car door, a man inside barely conscious, blood pooling at his feet. Another woman was lying on a stretcher nearby, her leg twisted at an unnatural angle, her cries barely audible over the rain and sirens.

“I’ll start triage over there,” Lucinda said, pointing toward the semi-truck. “Get me a team of EMTs.”

Becky nodded sharply. “I’ll get you what I can. We’re stretched thin, but I’ll make it work.”

The two women moved into action without another word, their professional synergy clicking into place as if they hadn’t spent weeks avoiding each other. They worked side by side, though neither acknowledged the weight of their shared history. There wasn’t time for that—not now.

As the EMTs rushed a patient toward the waiting ambulance, Lucinda turned to see Becky standing a few feet away, her eyes locked on her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The chaos around them seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of them in the center of it all .

Becky broke the silence first. “You’ve still got it,” she said, her voice low, almost hesitant.

Lucinda’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “So do you.”

For a second, it felt like the tension between them might snap. Lucinda could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air, the weight of everything they hadn’t said since their breakup pressing down on her. She wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had grown between them, but now wasn’t the time.

Before either of them could say more, the sound of metal groaning against asphalt shattered the moment. One of the vehicles shifted under the weight of the wreckage, sending a ripple of panic through the emergency responders.

“Get back!” Becky shouted, grabbing Lucinda’s arm and pulling her away from the danger.

Lucinda stumbled slightly, but Becky’s grip was firm as she clutched Lucinda to her body. The heat of her skin seeped through Lucinda's wet clothes.

“Are you okay?” Becky asked, her voice softer now, concern etched into her features.

Lucinda nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

They stood there for a beat longer, the chaos swirling around them, but all Lucinda could focus on was the warmth of Becky’s hand on her arm, the closeness they hadn’t shared in so long.

But then the moment passed, and they both stepped back, the weight of their responsibilities crashing back down on them. There was still work to be done, still lives to save.

Becky cleared her throat, her expression hardening once more. “We’ve got to move. More vehicles are at risk of collapsing.”

Lucinda nodded, pulling herself together. “I’ll get my team on it.”