Page 154 of The Night Shift
Seventeen hours later
EGH
“I was going to yell at you for missing my surgery, but now I don’t think I should.” Kennedy looks at my injured hand that’s tucked inside a sling, braced and immobile. “What the hell happened? Another date with Dr. Unfunny?”
Ideally, I would have tossed back a witty remark about Holly being the very definition of hilarity, but not today.
Not when she’s spent all of today ignoring me for no reason whatsoever. Not even aheyor a little glare to acknowledge my existence. Nothing.
I walk into a room — she walks out. I call her name — she pretends not to hear it.
I miss the good old days when she would just stab me in the stomach instead of acting like I don’t exist.
“How’s the pain?” I ask. “Any nausea? Dizziness?”
“No.”
“Headaches?”
“No.”
“Any post-operative swelling in your legs?”
“Are you even allowed to work with a broken hand? It is broken, right? Or are you one of those people who fakes an injury for attention?”
I shoot her a look. “Yes, I’m allowed to work.” I had it checked out in our ER this morning — not by Holly, which I hated, but turns out she had set the initial splints just in time. So, no surgery needed. Just a brace for the next six weeks to keep the bones aligned while they heal.
Kennedy tilts her head. “So, what happened?”
“A minor incident.”
“It doesn’t look minor.”
“How was the surgery?”
A wide grin spreads across her face. “It hurt like a bitch once I woke up, but they gave me a tub full of strawberry ice cream.”
“Is that so?”
She nods. “I basically run this hospital now.”
“Yes, boss.”
Kennedy shifts, eyes twinkling. “Okay, since you won’t tell me what happened to your hand, do you wanna hear a joke? I circled some good ones in the puzzle section today.”
“Sure.”
She reaches for the newspaper on her bedside table, holding it open in front of her face, when something catches my attention on the front page. An article in the bottom left corner.
Four Killed in Bedford-Stuyvesant Fire. Victims Burned Beyond Recognition
“What has hands but can’t clap?” Kennedy asks.
“Can I see that for a second?” I’m already reaching for the newspaper, taking it from her grasp.
“Hey, that’s cheating!”
I spread it open against the side of her bed with my good hand and read the article.
