My Doctor Mother Wouldn’t Pull Strings for Me—Until I Died Chapter 02

My Doctor Mother Wouldn’t Pull Strings for Me—Until I Died Chapter 02

She pounded on that door for a full five minutes before it finally opened.

My mother stepped out, face like thunder.

“Daphne! What is all this shouting about?”

Nurse Daphne, still trembling, pointed at me lying on my side on the floor, stammering.

“Dr. Marsh, I think she might have internal bleeding!”

My mother frowned, crouched down, and casually lifted the back of my shirt.

“There’s a wound, sure, but it’s just superficial.”

She stood and brushed off her hands, barely masking her impatience.

“Daphne, what exactly did they teach you in nursing school?”

“A scrape like this looks bad, but it probably just nicked a small vein—that’s why there’s more blood than usual.”

“The patients out there don’t know any better. Are you going to panic too?”

Daphne’s face flushed red.

“Dr. Marsh, there’s really something hard underneath—”

“Enough.” My mother cut her off.

“The anatomy of the back is complicated. It’s understandable a nurse might mistake a rib for something foreign—I’ll even commend you for being cautious.”

“But if you keep disrupting emergency operations like this, I’m going to have to reconsider your intern evaluation!”

With that, she yanked me up by the arm.

“Why are you still on the floor?”

The glass shifted—I didn’t know where it had pierced into this time.

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed hold of Mom’s pant leg:

“Mom. Help me. It really hurts…”

She pulled the fabric out of my grip. Her voice, muffled, reached my ears.

“Weston already told me—you were in the back seat when it happened. The safest spot in the car!”

“Brynn was up front and got hurt in your place, and you’re still here arguing about who gets treated first?”

Daphne suddenly pointed at my wrist.

“Dr. Marsh, she’s still wearing the red critical-condition wristband!”

My mother paused.

Then, in the next instant, something like realization flickered across her eyes.

“Did you say something to the paramedic? Because you’re my daughter, you got tagged critical so you’d get priority?”

“Adeline. Is that how I raised you?”

Her voice rose sharply, loud enough for the whole ER to hear.

“There are people out there who’ve been waiting for me to save their lives. And you—you use my position to cut the line? Even if I let it slide today, do you think the other patients would?”

The waiting room erupted.

“That’s not fair! Some of us have been waiting for hours!”

“So what if you’re the director’s daughter? First come, first served!”

“We’re all here because we need a doctor! How can someone so young have so little shame?”

My mother raised a hand and let the murmuring die down, looking down at me from above.

“Did you hear that? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Adeline Marsh—for fairness’s sake, you’ll be seen last today.”

“As for the paramedic who put that wristband on her without authorization—I’ll be dealing with that severely.”

Applause rippled through the waiting room. Someone gave a thumbs-up.

“No wonder she runs this hospital. That’s real integrity!”

My mother’s face glowed with satisfaction.

Right then, the door to the trauma bay opened again, and Weston came rushing out.

He caught sight of me on the floor and stopped short.

“Adeline? What—”

“She’s being dramatic.” My mother cut him off. “How’s Brynn?”

Weston’s eyes flicked over me, then back to my mother.

“The wound’s jagged. If we suture it, it might scar…”

“That won’t do!” My mother’s expression shifted instantly. “Brynn’s just a young girl. A scar on her arm would break her heart!”

She grabbed Weston and pulled him back toward the trauma bay.

“I’ll stitch it myself. You assist. Tell the others—treat this seriously!”

Weston stumbled, glancing back at me, hesitating.

From inside the emergency room, Brynn’s voice drifted out, tearful.

“Weston… stitches are so scary… will you stay with me?”

Whatever flicker of concern had crossed his face vanished.

He rushed inside without another look back.

As the door swung shut, I heard my mother’s voice, soft as silk.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. Mom’s here.”

I lay on the freezing floor, trying to remember the last time she’d spoken to me in that tone.