Page 57 of The Masquerade: Room 2

“Breathe, little one.”

Chapter 12

FREYA

“I’m right here. Quiet your mind and decide what we do next, little one.”

No. No. No.

It can’t be him.

This can’t be happening.

What do I do?

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice booming through the operating room as he continues compressions.

“I need to make more room for the brain swelling.”

“Good. Do it quickly. We’re running out of time to save this man.”

My breathing is too fast, my pulse hammering in my ears, drowning out everything but the sound of his voice.

I get to work, the bone saw in my hand as I cut away more of this man’s skull. It’s the only thing that could save him. Did I do something wrong? Dr. Harrison is saying I did everything right. Dr. Harrison. Daddy.

There’s no time to care about that right now. I have a patient’s life in my hands. “Mannitol.” I practically bark the dosage at the nurses, but they are cool, calm, and collected.

Just as I’m about to lose hope, Dr. Harrison says the words I’m desperate to hear.

“We’ve got a heartbeat. Sinus rhythm.”

“Thank God.” I take a gasping breath.

“No. Thank you, Dr. Perrington. Let’s continue, close him up and get him to the ICU.” He turns his attention to the rest of the room. “Great work, everyone.”

He’s always generous with his praise for nurses but rarely with residents.

I hold it together and take my time, giving my very best until the patient has been wheeled out of the operating room. I make short work of degloving and washing my hands. Dr. Harrison enters the scrub room, pulling his scrub cap and mask off. “We need to talk, Freya.”

“I can’t. Not here. Not now.” I reach for the doorhandle when he stops me dead in my tracks.

“Stop, little one.”

I look around as if other colleagues will appear out of thin air to witness my shame. “No. Goodnight, Dr. Harrison.” My heart is pounding so hard I’m about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Freya.”

I spin to meet his gaze. “No. Do not talk to me right now. How long have you known?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, the corded muscles sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

“You either want an answer, or you want me to shut up. Which is it?”

“This…” I gesture between us, “… is done.”

“Like hell it is. You’re mine, little one.” He closes in on me, bracing his hands on either side of me as my back hits the door.

“Not anymore. Let me go.”

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