Page 75 of Shadows of Recovery

“Janine, get our plastic surgeon on call. Also, have security notify me as soon as Tristan gets here,” Chris instructed, trying to keep his voice steady.

Matt choked back tears, his hands trembling. “What did that animal do to her to make her so scared?”

Chris replied, his voice heavy with sorrow, “More than we know, Matt. More than we know. Any idea what set her off?”

Renee, who was helping both doctors, spoke up. “You need to ask Dr. Birdham. She came in as I was taking her vitals. She said she was doing an assessment so Dr. Skylar could take over.”

Chris exploded, his face flushing with anger, “She was to have no contact with Sophie!”

Matt turned gray, his complexion paling as regret etched itself across his face. His shoulders slumped, and his gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet the eyes of those around him. “I didn’t have a chance to update the day shift,” he murmured, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

Chris shook his head in disbelief. “Matt, this isn’t on you. She was told. There’s no excuse for this. She knew the protocol. She knew Sophie’s fragile state.”

Sophie’s breathing had steadied slightly, thanks to the sedative, but her face was almost translucent, twisted in pain and fear. James continued to wrap the gauze, working as quickly and gently as he could.

Janine returned, her face pale. “The plastic surgeon is on the way. Tristan is on his way too.”

Matt took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Sophie, we’re here. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to take care of you.”

Sophie’s eyes fluttered open for a moment as tears dripped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice a fragile thread.

Chris leaned over her, his expression softening. “It’s not your fault, Sophie. We’re going to make sure you’re safe.”

The room fell into a tense silence as James and Sam worked to stop the bleeding and close the wounds. Each member of the medical team was lost in their thoughts, wrestling with anger, guilt, and sorrow. The sound of Tristan’s hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.

* * *

As Tristan burstinto the room, his eyes widened at the sight of Sophie’s bloodied body. “Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Sophie…”

Chris stood up, placing a reassuring hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “She’s medically stable and sedated for now. Tristan, we know the last person to see her was Kay. She disregarded the demand to stay away. Matt got hung up with a patient and didn’t have a chance to pass it on at report.”

Tristan nodded, his jaw clenched. “This isn’t Matt’s responsibility. Right now, all that matters is Sophie.”

Tristan stood resolute, his hand tightly clasped around Sophie’s, feeling the coolness of her skin against his. The room buzzed with the quiet urgency of the team as they worked, each movement precise, every action taken with the singular purpose of pulling her back from the edge. He barely registered the activity around him, his entire focus on Sophie, his heart aching with the depth of his need to keep her safe.

Chris peeled off his gloves and placed a reassuring hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Patty Lovell is on her way to suture her labia. We’ll need to watch her closely and provide intensive psychiatric support. I’ve put her on a mandatory three-day hold and assigned a one-to-one.”

Tristan closed and opened his eyes before his gaze returned to Sophie’s face. “Thank you.”

His mind was a storm of emotions, a whirlwind of fear, anger, and relentless determination. He had seen her through so much already, but this—this was something different, something darker. The way she lay there, vulnerable and too still, made his chest tighten with a suffocating mix of dread and resolve. He wouldn’t let anything else happen to her. Not now. Not ever.

Sam looked at him. “We will get her cleaned up. I’m running bloods to see how much she lost and if she put undue pressure on her heart. I ordered a medical one-to-one and the psych hold adds one to her. She’ll have two skilled providers with her around the clock.”

“Thank you, everyone.”

Tristan walked down the hall to Sophie’s room. He grew nauseated at the sight of blood speckling the walls and floor. It looked like a massacre.

He found Chris in his office, holding his head in his hands. “Chris, are you alright?”

He looked up at Tristan and chuckled. “I should be asking you. Tristan, I should have pushed you harder about Kay. I didn’t think it would come to this.” He pointed to the bloody portfolio case. “Renee found this in Sophie’s room.”

Tristan sat down. He recognized the gift he gave to Kay as a token of his thanks for helping him find his clarity from his addiction to Vicodin. He opened it slowly, revealing the mini office set and several charts. One of them was Sophie's, and it was spattered with blood. He glanced through the documents, his brow furrowing deeply and his breaths coming faster. The more he read, the more his heart sank.

"No wonder she broke," he murmured to himself. "She read her chart."

“You’re right. That’s what triggered her breakdown."

Tristan’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger in check. “How did this happen?”

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