Page 50 of Gage

I nodded.

“He decided to sedate her and place her on life support to stabilize her,” she explained.

“I’m taking her off of life support.”

The deep voice behind me made me turn.

Graham Anderson stood there, his presence commanding as ever. He clapped me on the back. “Where is she?”

“Wait,” the nurse protested. “You can’t just take her off life support.”

Graham shot her a sharp look. “I’m her doctor. Graham Anderson. I need everything you have on Laura Daniels.Now.”

“Yes, doctor.” The nurse nodded and turned to retrieve Lori’s file.

Graham glanced at Samantha. “This is Laura’s sister?”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

He nodded in greeting. “Hello, Samantha. If you two want to wait in the waiting room, I’ll update you once I’ve assessed her.”

“I’ll wait here,” I said firmly, not moving.

Samantha hesitated and then left to inform their father.

“When Laura was in Oregon talking to us, she mentioned getting bitten by a spider. She almost died from it,” Graham said.

“Did that happen in Afghanistan or Iran?” I asked.

“Neither—it was while she was home. I’m going to check her for a spider bite,” Graham said. “But first, I’m waking her up.”

I watched as he carefully removed the breathing tube from her throat and then unhooked the oxygen and IV drips. After pulling the sheet down to her feet, he began checking her body for any signs of a bite.

I wasn’t exactly comfortable with him examining every inch of Lori. Stepping forward, I started searching alongside him. We had been looking for a while when something on the back of her knee caught my attention.

“What’s this?” I asked, leaning closer. “I think I found it.”

Graham moved to my side. “Yep, that’s it. Look how swollen it is.”

He pressed the call button for the nurse.

“Yes, doctor? How can I help?” she asked.

“Bring me a scalpel and some towels,” Graham instructed.

As we waited, I glanced down at Lori. Her eyes fluttered open briefly before closing again.

“She’s waking up,” I said, heart pounding.

“She’s starting to come out of it,” Graham confirmed.

The nurse returned, handing him the supplies. “Here you go, doctor.”

“Thanks.” Graham turned to me. “I need you to hold her leg still. I don’t want her moving while I have a scalpel in my hand.”

I positioned myself and firmly held onto her leg as he made a precise incision in the swollen, red area. A thick rush of infection oozed out. Graham quickly pressed a heated washcloth against it, letting it drain before wrapping a towel around the wound.

“We’ll keep it open for now and let the infection drain,” he explained. “Hopefully, that’ll bring her fever down. She can’t take any penicillin-based meds. She told me she’s allergic to anything ending in ‘-cillin.’” He shook his head. “It’s almost like she knew this was coming. I’m glad you called me.”

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