Page 75 of Broken Dream

I laugh then. “You know what? I think you’re right.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jason

I don’t go back to see Angie again.

Even though I know we need to talk, I can’t bring myself to do it. To have the conversation that has to be.

I continue checking in with Louisa every now and then to see if they found a suitable nerve for my graft.

Finally, Thursday rolls around.

Anatomy lab.

I’ll see Angie.

And we’ll cut into the cadavers for the first time.

I get to class early and wait for the students to arrive.

I stand at the front of the room, the faint smell of formaldehyde heavy in the air, and look at the covered bodies on the lab tables.

The students begin to file in and gather around their cadavers. They pull on their gloves.

Angie doesn’t look at me.

She doesn’t look at her cadaver, either, though Tabitha has a huge smile on her face and is clearly eager to begin.

“All right,” I begin, keeping my voice steady. “Before we start, I want to remind you again that these donors made a choice to be here, to give you the opportunity to learn. Treat them with the respect they deserve. Every incision you make today is not just about anatomy. It’s about honoring that choice.”

I walk to the table next to Angie’s. “Your first task is to uncover the thoracic and abdominal region like we did last week. Only the area we’ll be working on today. The rest stays covered. You’ll find that keeping the rest of the body draped helps preserve the tissue and keeps you focused. It’s also a way to honor the modesty of the patient you’re working on.”

Most of the students nod, and some murmur in agreement.

“Peel back the sheet slowly, folding it over itself as you did before.” I demonstrate on the cadaver where I’m standing, lifting the drape gently and folding it toward the cadaver’s feet.

The skin beneath is pale and slightly discolored.

“Good. Now, you’ll notice the midline here.” I trace my gloved finger along the linea alba, the faint ridge that runs down the abdomen. “This is your guide. It’s a natural anatomical landmark, free of major blood vessels, which makes it the ideal place for your first incision.”

I pause and look around the room to make sure every student is paying attention.

“This first cut is about precision, not depth. You’re not trying to get all the way through in one go. Start with a shallow incision and then gradually deepen it layer by layer. Think of this as peeling an onion. Skin, fascia, muscle—each layer needs your care.”

I pick up a scalpel from the tray. “Hold your scalpel like this.” I demonstrate a firm but controlled grip. “And when you’re ready, make your incision from the base of the sternum here”—I point—“to just above the pubic bone. Use smooth, even pressure, and let the blade do the work.”

I hand the scalpel to a student at the table and step back. “Take your time. There’s no rush. Remember, this is your first step into understanding the human body—not just in theory, but in reality. And that’s what being here is all about.”

I move around the room slowly, the sound of gloves snapping and metal clinking filling the air as students pick up their scalpels. Some are already diving in, too eager, while others hesitate, their hands hovering over the cadaver.

“Linda,” I say, stopping at a table. She’s gripping her scalpel like it’s a knife in a bad action movie, her knuckles surely white underneath her gloves. “Relax your grip. You’re not hacking at it. You’re guiding the blade. Loosen up, like this.” I demonstrate with a practiced motion.

Linda nods and adjusts her grip. Her partner, Jonathan, looks more comfortable.

Moving on, I hear Tabitha murmuring to Angie at their table in the front. “I just don’t want to mess this up,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t,” Angie replies, her tone calm, reassuring.