ATTENDING PHYSICIAN
“You’re a doctor,” she breathed.
At last, I looked at her.
“Yes,” I said. “And Claire is bleeding internally.”…
PART 2
The ultrasound confirmed it. Claire required emergency surgery, and the on-call gynecologic surgeon was still ten minutes out.
Dad moved toward me, color gone from his face. “Emily, save your sister.”
The words hit harder than any apology could have. He had never once asked whether I had needed saving.
“I am treating my patient,” I said. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
Claire’s blood pressure plummeted. I ordered blood, activated the operating room, and kept her stable until the surgeon arrived. When they wheeled her out, Mom reached toward me.
I moved back. “Do not touch me while I’m working.”
Her hand dropped. For the first time, she listened.
Claire lived. Fifteen more minutes could have killed her. I recorded everything, transferred her care, and formally stepped away from the case because of our connection.
Only after that did I walk into the consultation room.
My parents sat side by side, looking smaller than I remembered. Daniel stood near the window with a thin black case.
Mom looked at him. “Who is that?”
“My husband.”
Her mouth parted.
Dad murmured, “You got married?”
“Three years ago. You returned the invitation unopened.”
“We never received it,” Mom said.
Daniel set a postal record on the table. “Someone at your address signed for it.”
Then he opened the case.
Copies covered the table: trust withdrawals with forged signatures, bank transfers into Claire’s event-planning business, tuition records proving I never left school, and metadata from the fake email account she had used to pretend to be me.
Claire had stolen $184,000 from my education trust.
Dad picked up one page with shaking fingers. “This cannot be real.”
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