Page 82 of The Beat of her Heart

“Another clamp,” she said, her hand steady as she took the new tool. She worked quickly, her gaze darting between the pool of blood and the drain. Every second felt like it stretched into eternity, the edges of her focusblurring as she worked, her hands moving in practiced rhythm.

“More suction. Keep it clear. Hang some more blood.” Her assistant’s movements mirrored her pace, their hands synchronized, but the bleeding didn’t slow. She knew she had only minutes to get it under control, or they’d lose Sophie.

Giselle adjusted her grip, pressing the clamp down as her mind raced to analyze what she couldn’t see, working through every possibility. Her gaze flicked to the monitor again—heart rate unstable, dropping.

“More suction,” she repeated, urgency biting into each word.

Another assistant nurse shifted, her hand hovering over the defibrillator, her face tight with worry.

“Not yet,” Giselle said sharply. “Focus on the suction. I can stabilize it.”

She applied pressure to the torn vessel, her hands firm but precise. The bleeding slowed, but not enough. Sophie’s heart continued to beat irregularly, the sound uneven and strained.

Giselle glanced up, catching Addie’s facethrough the glass again. Horror was etched into every line of her expression. She forced herself to look back at Sophie and block out everything but the child in front of her.

“Come on,” she whispered, her hands steadying as she worked, every ounce of her concentration narrowing to this single moment, this single chance.

Then the sound came—the long, flatline tone that filled the room. Giselle’s heart lurched, her mind freezing as she looked at the monitor and the thin, unwavering line stretched across the screen.

Giselle’s breath raced as she looked at Sophie, at the stillness of her small frame. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Her hands moved automatically, reaching for the defibrillator.

“Clear!” she ordered, despite the tremor in her gut. She pressed the paddles against Sophie’s chest, willing the machine to work, for something to change.

But nothing did. The monitor stayed steady and unyielding, taunting her with silence.

Her team’s faces reflected her own doubtback at her. She saw the glances they exchanged, the way their expressions softened as if they were already accepting the outcome.

“Again,” she said, her voice sharp and her gaze fierce.

An intern shifted, his gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. “Dr. Carlisle…”

“I said again.” Her tone left no room for argument.

They followed, preparing for another shock, their movements slower now.

Through the glass window of the OR, Giselle caught sight of Addie. She was standing there, her hands pressed against the glass, her face a mask of anguish and anger.

“You promised, Giselle. You promised!” She heard Addie scream.

Madeline pulled her away from the glass. Giselle shut her eyes for a second. When she opened them, the flatline tone and Addie’s voice were still pretty audible.

“Do you even know what it means to love someone?” Addie’s voice carried through the window, muffled but unmistakable, piercingright through the thin layer of calm Giselle was trying to maintain.

Giselle’s jaw tightened. She glanced at the monitor, then back at Sophie. Her hands felt heavier, her mind barely able to process the words Addie had thrown at her.

“You’re too cold, too rigid. You don’t care about anyone!” Addie’s voice was louder now.

Giselle glanced back down at Sophie, her fingers trembling slightly as she forced them to move, to keep going, to ignore the voice that wouldn’t let her breathe.

“Addie, stop.” Madeline’s voice rang out from somewhere beyond the glass, calm but stern.

But Addie’s face didn’t soften.

Giselle closed her eyes for a brief second, forcing herself to block out everything, to ignore the stinging words and searing looks, and to focus only on the child before her. This was her job. This was why she was here—to help, to save lives, to do what no one else could.

“Again,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

The team hesitated, but they moved to prepare the machine once more. Giselle gripped the defibrillator, her hands steady, her gaze locked on Sophie.

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