Chapter 7 "Zack... It hurts so much! My leg... is it ruined?" Juanita's anguished cry pierced the air, her voice trembling with pain. Zachary's gaze snapped back to her, any trace of doubt erased by his overwhelming concern. Without sparing Emmaline another glance, he scooped Juanita into his arms and rushed out. "Hang on, I'm getting you to a doctor!" Emmaline sat frozen on the hospital bed, watching his back disappear through the door. Her body felt numb, her heart drained of all warmth. But soon, Zachary returned, his expression grim as he approached her bedside. "Nita's burns are severe. She needs a skin graft immediately, but the hospital can't find a suitable donor. Since her injury is because of you, you'll provide the skin." Emmaline stared, incredulous. "Zachary, didn't you hear a word I said? I didn't cause her injury!" He rubbed his temples, exhaustion and impatience etching his face. "Emma, it doesn't matter who's to blame any- more. Nita's hurt badly. She's a young woman-do you know what a scar like that would do to her? Just... help her out, okay?" "Why should I?" Emmaline's voice was steely, her heart frozen. "I'm not doing it." When he saw she wouldn't give in, Zachary's last thread of patience snapped. His expression turned cold. Without warning, he struck the back of her neck with a sharp, precise blow. Darkness swallowed her as she collapsed. When she woke, her arm and thigh burned with a fiery ache. Her skin had been taken. Zachary hovered nearby, his face a mix of guilt and placation as he saw her stir. "Emma, you're awake! How do you feel? Are you in pain? Want me to get you something to eat?" Emmaline's red-rimmed eyes locked onto him, silent and hollow with despair. Her gaze unnerved him, and he looked away, his voice softening. "I know I shouldn't have taken your skin without your consent... But Nita's your intern. You couldn't just let her be scarred for life, right? Let's just forget about it, alright? What's done is done. Let's move past it and focus on our future." Emmaline shut her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. She didn't want to talk to him. Zachary knew he was in the wrong, so for the next few days, he tried to make it up to her. He took care of her attentively, speaking softly, fussing over every detail-just like he used to. After her discharge, he insisted on taking her and Juanita out to dinner, claim- ing it would "mend things." At the restaurant, Juanita played the part of a contrite angel, eagerly serving Emmaline food. "Dr. Walsh, I was imma- ture before, upsetting you. Please forgive me. Eat this, and we'll be friends again, okay?" Emmaline froze, staring at the clam on her plate. She loathed clams-they made her gag-and Zachary knew it. She didn't move or speak. Juanita immediately looked toward Zachary, her eyes welling up with tears, looking deeply wronged. Zachary frowned at Emmaline. "Emma, Nita is trying to apologize. Just give her a break and eat it. We're all like family here." 0.0% 10:01 Chapter 7 The word churned in Emmaline's gut, leaving her weary and nauseated. Done with his lectures and their charade, she picked up her fork and forced the clam down. Her stomach roiled, but she swallowed the urge to retch. Zachary's face lit with approval, as if her compliance meant she'd finally "come around" to reconciling with Juanita. As they left the restaurant, a group of hospital staff rushed up. "Dr. Walsh, thank goodness we found you! There's been a major car accident. The patient's in critical condition-massive internal bleeding. The director says only you can operate. You're the patient's last chance!" Emmaline snapped into focus, shoving her emotions aside. "I'm on my way." Juanita, as her intern, followed close be- hind. In the operating room, tension crackled like static. Emmaline poured every ounce of her skill and experience into the fight, battling death itself to save the patient. After hours of grueling work, the patient's vitals stabilized. Relief rippled through the team as the surgery neared suc- cess. Emmaline peeled off her gloves, ready to hand off the final steps. Then disaster struck. Juanita, assisting with closing the abdomen, fumbled-whether from nerves or incompetence, her instrument nicked a freshly sutured major blood vessel. Blood gushed like a broken dam. "No!" Emmaline's face paled as she lunged to intervene, but it was too late. The patient's blood pressure plummeted. The monitor's shrill alarm filled the room, then flatlined into a cold, final silence. The patient was gone. He died in the last moment before salvation. 65.4 % 10:01