Page 38 of Doctor Second Chance

As we gather our clothes and head inside, I can't help but wonder what this means for us. But for now, I push those thoughts aside. Tonight is about reconnecting, about exploring the possibilities that lie before us. The future can wait until the light of day.

TWELVE

Shep

Thursday, July 11

6:08 am

I jolt awake, my skin prickling with an unnatural heat. Something's wrong. Turning to Elle, I'm struck by the waves of warmth radiating from her body. She's shivering violently, her face flushed and damp with sweat.

"Elle," I whisper, gently shaking her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Her response is weak, barely audible. "I'm fine..."

My heart races as I press my palm to her forehead. It's scorching. Instinct takes over as I slip into doctor mode, checking her pulse. It's rapid and thready—a telltale sign of severe infection.

"Shit," I mutter, leaping out of bed. This could be sepsis. We need to move fast.

I grab my phone, dialing Cason as I struggle to pull on clothes one-handed.

"Cason, I apologize for the early call, but it's an emergency. My friend Elle needs to go to the ER. Can you come watch Opie?"

She agrees without hesitation, promising to be here in ten minutes. I hang up and turn back to Elle, who's drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Stay with me," I plead, carefully dressing her in whatever I can grab. Once she's somewhat clothed, I scoop her into my arms. She feels impossibly light and fragile.

I carry her downstairs, my mind racing through possible diagnoses and treatment protocols. As I ease her into the passenger seat of my car, Cason's headlights illuminate the driveway.

"Thank you," I call out to her as she rushes towards the house. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

With that, I peel out of the driveway, praying I can get Elle to the hospital faster than an ambulance. Every second counts now.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I weave through the empty pre-dawn streets. The roads are mercifully clear, and there is no traffic to slow us down. Every few seconds, I glance over at Elle. She's slumped against the passenger door, her skin ghostly pale in the dim light.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, I fumble for my phone and dial Charlie Hampton's number. An answering service picks up, and I grit my teeth in frustration.

"This is Dr. Shep Duncan," I bark, cutting off the receptionist's scripted greeting. "I need to speak with Dr. Hampton immediately. It's an emergency."

"I'm sorry, sir, but Dr. Hampton isn't on call tonight. I can connect you with?—"

"No," I interrupt, my voice sharp with urgency. "You need to get Charlie on the phone right now. Tell him to call me back immediately."

I end the call and toss my phone into the center console, muttering a string of curses under my breath. Reaching over, I take Elle's hand in mine. It's clammy and hot to the touch.

"Elle, can you hear me?" I knead her hand gently. "You're going to be fine, okay? We're almost there. Just hang on for me."

She doesn't respond, but I feel her fingers twitch slightly in my grasp. It's enough to give me hope.

"That's it," I encourage, pressing down harder on the accelerator. "Stay with me. We're so close."

The hospital comes into view, its emergency entrance lit up like a beacon in the darkness. I say a silent prayer of thanks as I screech into the ambulance bay, tires squealing against the pavement.

I slam on the brakes, run around to the passenger seat, and scoop her up in my arms. I carry her, her head resting on my chest.

I burst through the ER doors, Elle's limp body cradled in my arms. My heart pounds as I scan the room frantically.

"I need help here!" I shout, my voice echoing off the sterile walls. "Possible septic shock!"

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