DASHIELL
"Did you hear about what happened to Mr. Rivera?"
I was standing at the nurses' station, organizing a stack of patient charts by color and priority, when Leo's voice made me pause. Sari was beside me, updating a chart on the computer. We turned toward Leo as he walked up, looking far too excited for Monday morning.
"The angry dad who punched Dash? What happened?" Sari asked, leaning forward.
Leo lowered his voice like he was sharing hospital gossip gold. "One of the night nurses, Carla, you know her, she lives like three blocks from the Riveras said he got jumped a few nights ago. Brutally attacked. She saw him when the wife was rushing him to a different hospital because ofcourse he was not allowed to come back here."
Sari's eyes widened.
Leo made a dramatic gesture across his face. "Hand's all fucked up. Apparently bones broken, something like that. And his face…" Leo drew a line from the corner of his mouth toward his ear. "Joker cut. Straight razor work. They had to stitch him up real good and he's saying it was a random mugging, he didn't see their face."
Sari's eyes widened. "Christ."
My stomach dropped.
I stared at Leo, fingers freezing, my toes curled hard against the floor inside my shoes as a wave of unease washed over me.
That was… horrible.
"Is he… going to be okay?"
Leo shrugged. "Physically? Probably. But that hand might never work the same again. And the scar on his face is permanent."
"That is… extreme," I said quietly, my fingers began tapping a rapid rhythm against the side of the chart. "A facial laceration like that would damage the facial nerve branches. Possible permanent scarring and loss of sensation. And the hand… if the flexor tendons were severed, he may never regain full function."
Leo shrugged, though his eyes were sharp on me. "Good for him though. After what he did to our cute Dash? Punching you in the middle of the ward like that? Nah. Karma's a bitch."
I frowned, still tapping.
"It is not karma," I said bluntly. "It is assault." I paused, then added softer, "Even if he deserved consequences… that is too much. No one should be carved up like that."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "You defending the guy who split your lip?"
"No," I answered honestly. "I just… do not like violence. Even when it is aimed at bad people."
Sari placed a gentle hand near my arm (not touching, she had learned). "You okay, Dash? That must feel weird to hear."
I nodded stiffly, but my mind was already spiraling. The image of someone slicing a man's face like that made my stomach churn.
Who would even do something so cruel?
I stood up abruptly, needing to move.
"I should get back to work," I said, voice still a little shaky. "I'll see you guys later.
I walked out of the lounge on the balls of my toes, fingers tapping rapidly against my thigh as I headed down the corridor.
*****
I stared at the little girl.
Sophia sat on the exam table swinging her legs, clutching her stuffed bunny tightly. Her mother looked even more exhausted than last week, dark circles under her eyes. I stood at the rolling table, meticulously arranging the MRI images and report in perfect order before I began speaking.
I had reviewed the scans three times already in my office.
"Good morning," I said directly, making brief eye contact with the mother before shifting my gaze to Sophia's forehead. "I have the results of Sophia's MRI."
The mother straightened immediately, hands twisting together. "What did it show?"
I tapped my fingers once against the edge of the table, then stopped myself.
"There is a lesion," I said plainly, because I refused to sugarcoat something this important. "A small mass in the left temporal lobe. It is likely causing the focal features we saw on the EEG and contributing to the motor regression."
The mother's face went pale. "A mass? Like… a tumor?"
"It is most likely a low-grade glioma or a developmental lesion," I explained, keeping my voice calm and even. "It is not very large, but its location explains the seizures and the regression. This is why the absence-like episodes are not responding as we would expect in typical childhood absence epilepsy."
Sophia looked between us, confused but sensing the tension. "Is my brain broken?" she asked in a small voice.
I turned to her and gave her a small, honest smile. "It is not broken. There is something extra in one part that should not be there. We are going to try to make it better."
I looked back at the mother. "I have already consulted with neurosurgery. Dr. Patel will review the images this afternoon. Because of the location and Sophia's age, surgery may be necessary to remove it. But we will not rush into that decision. We need to do more testing first possibly a PET scan and genetic panels."
The mother's eyes filled with tears. "Surgery… on her brain?"
"Yes," I said honestly. "If we leave it, the seizures will likely get worse and the regression could become more severe. But this is not my decision alone. I am a neurologist. I diagnose and manage. The neurosurgeons will handle the operation if it is needed."
I paused, my fingers starting to tap a rapid rhythm against my thigh under the table.
"I know this is scary," I added, more gently than usual. "But we caught it early. That is important."
Sophia hugged her bunny tighter. "Will it hurt?"
I answered her directly. "The surgery would be done while you are sleeping. You will not feel anything. But yes, there will be some pain and recovery time afterwards. I will not lie to you."
Her mother started crying quietly.
I stood there, unsure what to do with my hands. I wanted to offer comfort but knew most people did not like being touched by near-strangers, so I simply arranged the papers again into perfect lines while giving them a moment.
"I will coordinate everything," I said after a moment. "We will move as quickly and safely as possible. Do you have any questions?"
The mother wiped her eyes. "Can I… can I get a second opinion?"
"Of course," I replied without hesitation. "I can recommend excellent doctors if you would like."
I stayed with them for another twenty minutes, answering every question as clearly and honestly as I could, even when they were difficult. By the time I left the room, my fingers would not stop tapping and my left foot was rubbing repeatedly against my right ankle.
I needed quiet. Just five minutes.
I clutched Sophia's file to my chest and started walking down the east corridor toward the quieter staff lounge on the sixth floor. My footsteps were light on the balls of my toes as I moved, trying to regulate the growing overload.
I turned the corner sharply and walked straight into a solid chest.
A strong hand immediately grabbed my upper arm to steady me.
I flinched hard, head snapping up.
Anthony Astor stood there, towering over me, and smiling with perfect white teeth.
He looked polished in his expensive suit, dark hair perfectly styled, the same sharp bone structure as Alexander but somehow… different.
"Just the pretty little doctor I was looking for," he said smoothly, his grip lingering on my wrist a second longer than necessary.
I froze, fingers twitching in his hold. My toes lifted slightly off the floor as unease prickled down my spine.
I tried to step back, but his hand stayed locked around my arm.
"Anthony," I said directly, keeping my voice steady even though my heart rate had spiked. "I did not know you were here. Please let go of my arm."
He didn't. Instead, his smile widened as his thumb brushed slowly over my sleeve.
"I've been meaning to have a little chat with you, Dashiell." His eyes dragged over my face, lingering on my mouth for a second too long.
My foot started rubbing against my ankle again, faster now.
Something about the way he was looking at me made my stomach twist.