Page 10 of The Beat of her Heart

Dr. Josephine Mars was already there, scrubbing in. “You ready for this?” she asked without turning around.

“Always,” Giselle said, slipping into the gown handed to her by a nurse.

The air in the room was thick with tension. The nurses were attending to the girl’s parents out in the hallway, their frantic voices barely muffled by the door. Giselle caught snippets of their pleas.

“Will she be okay?”

“Can’t we be in there with her?”

The nurses worked to keep them calm and explain the process, but it wasn’t enough. The parents were inconsolable.

Giselle turned her attention to the girl on the table. Her chest moved unevenly under the layers of surgical drapes, her heart barely managing its rhythm. The lines on the monitors beeped irregularly, each blip a reminder of how little time they had.

A nurse called out the details one last time: ventricular heart defect, left ventricle not functioning properly. Previous surgeries had failed to fix the issue. This was it. Her last chance.

“BP’s dropping,” one of the nurses called out.

Giselle moved toward the girl, her gloved hands steady. She could feel the tension inthe room grow with each second that passed, but none of it touched her. She blocked it out. All that mattered was the procedure.

She could see it all clearly in her head—the incision, the delicate maneuvers, the exact corrections she’d make. It was all laid out, piece by piece.

“Ready?” Giselle asked, her voice cutting through the low murmurs around her.

The anesthesiologist was already by the girl’s head, adjusting the oxygen and taking note of the medicine’s dosage. She glanced at Giselle as she moved in closer.

“Dr. Carlisle, she’s not stable,” the anesthesiologist said, her voice tight. “You need to be fast.”

“I don’t plan on wasting time,” she said.

Josephine was beside her now, hands up as a nurse prepped her. “Everything ready?” Josephine asked, glancing at the monitors.

“Close enough,” Giselle said. “Let’s get in there.”

The scrub nurse approached with the sterile instruments, laying them out methodically. The rest of the team moved around the room, adjusting lights and checking the monitors, everythinghappening in sync. But Giselle noticed the slight hesitation in their movements—the way they glanced at her, then at each other. She knew what they were thinking. This was her first surgery here, and they were waiting to see if she’d live up to her reputation.

A nurse handed her the scalpel, and its weight felt familiar in her hand. The lights above were bright, illuminating the girl’s chest and the shallow rise and fall of her breath under the ventilator. Her skin looked almost translucent under the harsh light, with tiny veins visible beneath the surface.

“Let’s go,” Josephine said, her eyes on the girl. “We don’t have much time.”

The scalpel hovered above the girl’s chest, and Giselle glanced at Josephine for the briefest of moments. Josephine gave her a quick nod, and then Giselle made the first cut. The rest of the team moved in immediately, handing her the instruments she needed without a word.

The heart monitor echoed in the room, each beep a reminder of how little time they had. Giselle worked quickly, her hands moving with precision. Her focus was sharp,blocking out everything except the girl in front of her.

“Her pressure’s still dropping,” the anesthesiologist warned.

“Then we move faster,” Giselle said, her voice steady.

The room was tense, but she could feel the shift in the team’s focus. They were watching her every move, but now it wasn’t out of doubt. They were falling in line, trusting her to guide them through.

The girl’s heart was exposed now, fragile and small, and Giselle’s breath steadied as she began repairing the defect. The room was quiet as the team focused entirely on the task at hand. No one spoke unless it was necessary.

“Clamp,” Giselle said, and a nurse handed her the tool without hesitation.

The seconds ticked by in her head, each one bringing them closer to the point of no return. But she didn’t rush. She didn’t allow the urgency of the situation to affect her work.

“BP’s stabilizing,” a nurse called out.

Giselle didn’t acknowledge the update,her eyes locked on the girl’s heart. They weren’t out of the woods yet.

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