The nurse shook me off and kept walking.
"Please wait. Ms. Harding sprained her ankle, and Mr. Gilbert is furious. He ordered all staff to go treat her."
I froze. My mind went blank.
Thomas knew. He knew my mother's surgery was scheduled for today.
He did this on purpose.
Behind me, the operating room doors stood wide open. My mother's agonized moans carried out into the hall.
I shot to my feet and ran inside.
She was lying there, her face drained of all color.
I grabbed her hand.
"Mom!"
On the monitor beside her, every vital sign was plummeting.
Panic seized me.
"Mom! Are you okay? Doctor! Nurse! Is anyone there?!"
I slammed the call button over and over.
No one answered.
My mother's face had gone purple. The oxygen mask fogged in rapid, shallow bursts, and her hands were clawing at the air.
My knees buckled. I stumbled out of the operating room.
The first person I saw in a white coat, I lunged at them.
"Please, save my mother!"
"She's alone on the table with no one treating her, please..."
But one doctor after another waved me off.
Their faces were tight with discomfort.
"Mr. Gilbert gave the order. Everyone has to go attend to Ms. Harding."