Page 4 of Christmas at Watson Memorial

“I'm really scared about the surgery,” Holly whispers, twisting her blanket between her fingers. I can't help jumping in.

“You know what? Brave people get scared too.”

“You fly helicopters and fought in wars. You're not scared of anything,” she mumbles, shoulders slumping.

“Oh, I absolutely am. Want to know a secret? I'm terrified of escalators,” I confess in a stage whisper.

“The moving stairs?”

“They freak me out. Can't get on them without shaking like jello.”

Holly throws her head back, laughter bursting free, momentarily forgetting about her upcoming surgery.

“But you fly helicopters! Even with giant pigeons attacking over Central Park! Being scared of escalators makes no sense,” she giggles.

“Here's the thing about fear, Miss Holly. It doesn't always make sense. I can fly through a snowstorm, but those moving stairs? Pure terror,” I whisper conspiratorially. “Want to know what helps beat fear?”

“What?”

“Having brave people with you. That's why when you go into surgery, you'll have Dr. Winters and Dr. Kumari and Miguel the anesthesiologist, plus a whole team of brave people taking care of you. And when you're better, we'll flyover Central Park and face those mutant pigeons together,” I add with exaggerated gestures.

A glance at my watch shows it's time to leave – got an organ pickup in New Jersey in forty minutes. Can't keep them waiting. I give Holly our signature military salute and nearly make it out the door when a voice stops me cold.

“Selene!”

It's the first time I've heard Dr. Winters say my name, and somehow it sounds like music on her lips.

“Thank you for pretending to be afraid of escalators for Holly. It really helped.”

“The only made-up part was the mutant pigeons. The escalator thing? Totally real,” I admit with a shrug.

And there it is – a real smile blooming across her face.

Chapter 3

Alexia

“What the hell were you thinking, promising things you can't deliver to that kid?” I snap the moment I spot Selene Callahan striding into the hospital, her pilot's uniform crisp despite the early hour. The antiseptic smell burns my nostrils, mixing with the lingering scent of her leather jacket.

Holly's been begging all morning for Christmas decorations in her room. I get it - the kid's terrified about the heart transplant. Can't blame her. She's exhausted, spent her entire life fighting a congenital heart condition that's threatening to take her from us. My fingers curl around my stethoscope, knuckles white.

Selene fixes those piercing blue eyes on me, confusion dancing across her features. The fluorescent lights catch the golden strands in her hair, and I force myself to look away. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that emotional control is everything in medicine. But they never teach you in medschool what to do when a reckless helicopter pilot makes promises that could kill your patient before a transplant.

“I was just trying to give her hope. The kid needs something happy to hold onto right now,” she says, her voice soft but unwavering.

“Her immune system is compromised. I can't risk her getting sick before open-heart surgery,” I protest, my anger refusing to subside even as her proximity makes my pulse quicken.

“You don't honestly think I'd grab decorations from a dumpster, do you?” she counters, a hint of mischief in her voice. “We can get sterile materials, or sanitize them, right here in the hospital.”

“And who's going to foot that bill?”

“I will,” she says without hesitation. “Look, I just want to bring some joy to a kid who's been through hell. I don't see the problem. I vaguely remember Dr. Kumari mentioning something similar last Christmas and-”

Of course, Arya comes up. Those two troublemakers being friends makes perfect sense. “You can't make promises without consulting the medical team!” I insist.

My voice rises despite my best efforts to keep it level. The worst part is, I'm not even sure why I'm so angry. She should have consulted me before giving false hope to a seven-year-old, but she has a point. We could find a solution.

“Listen, I understand what Holly's going through. I lost my sister to a similar heart condition,” Selene's voice cracks slightly. “The heart never came in time. But Emily's last Christmas was-”