Chapter 27
Olivia drew in a steady breath and let it out in a long sigh, repeating the motion until the turmoil within her subsided.
Only after she had gathered herself did the realization settle in. Being uninvited to tonight’s gathering was, in fact, a favor.
There wouldn't be a need to stand for hours confined in an unforgivingly tight dress. She wouldn’t have to endure hours of social interaction, force a smile until her jaw ached, or pretend she belonged in a place that had never truly made space for her.
Instead, she could remain at the hospital, free from restraint and expectation, where she could simply be herself.
A faint sound of footsteps behind her cut through her thoughts. She turned to see Nurse Jessy hurrying toward her, a folder clasped in her left hand and holding a tablet on the other.
“There you are, Dr. Hilton. The patient's operation will be in two hours. It would be best if you rest for now and prepare.”
Olivia gave a small nod, her expression settling into a calm, composed stillness. She lifted her brows, the gesture causing her naturally long lashes to arch gracefully.
“How many surgeries do I have today?”
Jessy slipped the folder from her left hand under her arm, securing it against her side, then used her now-free fingers to tap and swipe across the tablet screen.
“You have two surgeries, Dr. Hilton,” she answered, her eyes still fixed on the display, reviewing the schedule. “The first one will commence soon, and the last…” She paused briefly, scrolling. “It doesn’t have a set time yet, but it will most likely be later this evening.”
“Thank heavens,” Olivia murmured, relief easing some of the tension in her chest.
A week ago had been a different story. What was supposed to be a manageable day had turned into a grueling ordeal when the assigned surgeon suffered a fractured wrist just hours before their procedures. Two complex surgeries had been pushed onto Olivia without warning, back-to-back.
She had worked through sheer exhaustion. There was a moment, clear as day in her memory, when she was certain her legs would give out right there in the operating room. But they hadn’t.
And somehow, despite everything, both surgeries had gone well.
At least today, it seemed, would be kinder.
Olivia straightened. “Do you have the details on the first case?”
Jessy nodded and pulled the folder from where it had been tucked under her arm. “Here.” She handed it over. “I figured you’d want to review it ahead of time, so I brought the file with me.”
“Thank you.”
Olivia took the patient’s file, her fingers brushing lightly over its smooth cover before closing around it. She flipped it open and began scanning the contents.
“Annalise Flynn. Twenty-eight years old…” she read under her breath.
“The patient is a preschool teacher,” Jessy said after a brief silence, filling in what the file could not. “It was a hit-and-run. One of her co-teachers witnessed the incident and brought her straight here.”
Olivia’s eyes paused on the page.
“A preschool teacher…” she repeated. Her grip on the file tightened ever so slightly. “What kind of person would want a sweet young woman dead?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
“There are more deranged people out there than you’d think, Dr. Hilton..”
Olivia let out a humorless huff. “That, I agree with.”
My parents are proof enough.
With her eyes still on the file, she started to walk toward the entrance. It was a habit she’d long told herself to break but she never quite managed to stop.
Nurse Jessy fell into step beside her, mumbling about the patient’s husband, who had already been contacted yet still hadn’t shown up.
Olivia tore her eyes from the paper and gave her friend an inquiring look.“How is her condition at the moment?”
“Still unconscious. There’s swelling in the brain and it's…. Pretty bad.”
Olivia flipped the pages, scanning it one last time. “Jessy… where’s her blood work?”
“I’m still waiting for the results, Dr. Hilton. The lab hasn’t uploaded them yet.”
Olivia lifted her wrist, eyes flicking to the watch strapped neatly against her skin. “It should be up by now,” she told Jessy.
“I can check again.”
“Please do.”
Jessy tapped her tablet awake. The screen lit up against her face. She scrolled, eyes darting across the data, refreshing once, then again.
For reasons she couldn’t quite name, Olivia felt her heartbeat stutter, an ominous, creeping sense that something unexpected had just complicated everything.
“Oh my God.” The nurse's hand flew to her mouth. Suddenly, she stopped walking.
Olivia halted beside as well, watching her with a frown now carved in her forehead. “What is it?”
Jessy said nothing for a long while. The silence stretched. It felt like eternity had passed before she finally looked Olivia in the eye.
“Doc… she’s pregnant.”
Olivia drew in a shaky breath, “How far along?” she asked in barely audible whisper.
The nurse's throat moved up and down. “It’s… early,”She trailed, “She probably didn’t know.”
Olivia closed her eyes for a brief second. Her hand moved on instinct, settling against her abdomen as if grounding herself in the weight of what she’d just heard.
A child.
The word changed everything.
The burden of it all settled squarely on her shoulders. The decision, impossible as it felt, was now hers to make.
“Prep the OR. We’re not waiting any longer.”
“Yes, Dr. Hilton. I’ll notify the surgical team immediately.” Nurse Jessy turned on her heel and hurried down the hall.
Olivia clenched her fists.
She couldn’t afford to lose two lives today. Not one that was only just beginning to bloom… and not the woman who had yet to realize she was carrying it.
—
The operating room was already being prepared when Olivia entered.
Bright lights flooded the sterile space. Instruments were laid out in precise order on the table.
“Prepaparation’s done, Dr. Hilton.” A scrub nurse announced.
Olivia stepped into position after checking on the patient's vitals. She took a deep breath, letting her undivided attention fall into the patient.
“Scalpel.”
She felt the cold steel placed on her hand. Leaning in, her hands moved instinctively as though possessing a mind of their own.
The blade cut through the skin and subcutaneous tissue, blood oozed from the incision, tainting the metal with a deep crimson color.
“Suction.”
A gloved hand moved, placing the tip of the instrument into the concerned area. The low, wet sound of suction filled the air.
After successfully performing Craniotomy, the problem revealed itself fully. Olivia could see the damage was worse than she expected.
“Damn it.”
Time blurred inside the operating room. She felt keenly aware of everything, as though the world had slowed just for her.
She was almost done when suddenly—
Beep. Beep.
“BP dropping!”
Olivia slowly lifted her eyes to the monitor. The numbers are falling far too fast. She felt the fear slip through her.
What if the patient died under her hands?
Would she be able to live with that knowledge?
Could she wake each morning without that quiet, gnawing guilt settling in her chest? Could she close her eyes at night without replaying every moment of the day, wondering if there was something more she could have done that might have changed the outcome?
“Stop.”
The voice rang sharply inside her head like a slap that snapped her back to the present. She shook off the cobwebs of fear clinging to her thoughts, clearing them away with effort, and forced her focus back where it belonged.
“We’re not losing her,” she said firmly. “We are almost there!”
The monitor let out a long, incessant piercing tone.
“Doctor—the patient!”
Olivia’s eyes snapped back on the screen. Because the line on the screen. Had just gone completely still.
—
Olivia let the warm water rinse her soapy hands. Streaks of crimson lazily spiral down the drain until the color fades to pink, then to a translucent blush before disappearing entirely.
Three long hours passed inside the operating room and the surgery had been a success.
Olivia should have felt relief. But all she could feel was the memory of how close it had come.
The soft knock on the door startled her. She finished scrubbing out and walked out of the room.
Dr. Wilson was waiting outside. He approached her and smiled. “You saved both of them.”
“I almost didn’t.” Olivia responded weakly. “There was a moment of fear on my part. It could have killed the patient.”
“That happens, Olivia.” His voice was gentle, filled with such quiet understanding that it made her eyes sting with fresh tears.
No one understood her the way Dr. Wilson did.
“You think the best surgeon in the world doesn't feel fear? They do. The difference is… they keep going anyway.”
Dr. Wilson didn't hesitate, he pulled her into a warm, fatherly embrace, one she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately.
A tear slipped from her eye. Then another came. And another. Before she even realized it, the fragile composure she had been clinging to shattered completely. She was full on sobbing in his shoulder.
“I thought I was going to watch them die,” she managed between sobs, her voice breaking with each word. “I’ve operated on so many patients before—too many to count—but… there’s never been a baby involved.”
“The only thing that matters is that you saved them.” Dr. Wilson rested a hand on the back of her head, gently smoothing her hair.
Olivia closed her eyes. For a moment, she wasn’t Dr. Olivia Hilton—the brilliant surgeon everyone relied on. She was just a little girl again, desperate for someone to tell her she had done enough.
Finally, she lifted her gaze to meet him, she found him watching her with quiet awe, like a proud father, deeply moved by his child’s achievement.
“Thank you….” He said. There was warmth in his eyes, and something else too… gratitude. “Thank you for saving my niece and grandchild's life. They’re alive because you were there.”
—
Olivia watches Annalise Flynn's form, laying still beneath the hospital blanket. Her face was pale, but she looked much better now compared to when she was first brought to the hospital.
In fact, if someone walked in without knowing… they would think she was only asleep. Not a woman who had just spent three long hours on the edge of death.
“You have to wake up soon,” she mumbled, reaching out and gently tucked strands of hair behind her ear. “Your students came by earlier. They were asking for you. They wouldn’t stop talking about their teacher.”
Her hand paused for a moment before pulling away. “And maybe your husband will be here soon too,” she added quietly.
A short while later, Olivia stepped out of the patient’s room. Down the hall, she spotted Nurse Jessy approaching, a lunch bag swinging lightly from her hand.
“Dr. Hilton! Let’s take a break together.”
“Sure,” Olivia replied, offering a faint smile. “I’m starving anyway. I’ll just grab the mug I left in the car.”
“Your favorite one, huh?” she teased
“I need it today.”
They walked in comfortable silence down the hall.
Before they parted ways at the lobby, Jessy subtly tilted her head toward a woman standing near the entrance. “She’s the co-teacher who brought Annalise in.”
Olivia followed her gaze.
The woman stood with her back half-turned, phone pressed tightly to her ear. One hand sliced sharply through the air in agitation. Her lips pressed thin before parting again in what was clearly another heated remark. Even from a distance, the tension radiated off her.
Jessy gave her a small wave before heading toward the break room.
Olivia continued on alone. She walked to where she parked her car and grabbed her mug from the passenger seat.
The same woman from the lobby was now standing a short distance away, still on her phone.
“…just tell her when she wakes up.” She said, climbing into her car.
Before the woman drove off, Olivia caught a glimpse of the woman slipping out of her blazer, revealing a fitted sleeveless top underneath. On her slim shoulder sat a small tattoo.
Olivia always wanted a tattoo but Mrs. Hilton would absolutely lose her mind if she ever got one.
Still… it wasn’t impossible.
Maybe I’ll get one too, Olivia thought. Mrs. Hilton wouldn’t know. Not if I had it somewhere hidden.
—
Olivia took a generous bite of the raspberry vanilla cupcake in her hand. She wasn’t much of a fan of vanilla but this one had looked particularly tempting.
The moment it touched her tongue, her eyes lit up. The sweetness was gentle, and the vanilla surprisingly didn’t overwhelm the taste of the fruit.
“So what do you think?” Jessy looked at her with expectant eyes.
They had just finished their meal and were now savoring the dessert Jessy brought to work.
“Did you really make this?”
“Of course.”
“Dangerously good,” Olivia finally said, “You could open a dessert shop with skills like this.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jessy grinned, evidently proud of her work.
They were interrupted by the door opening. A nurse walked in. Jessy lifted a hand, beckoning her to come. The nurse was the one currently assigned to Annalise.
“Did Mrs. Flynn’s husband came to the hospital?”
The nurse set her lunch bag on the table before taking the seat beside Jessy. She made a face. “No. We tried reaching him again, but he’s still out of contact.”
Olivia checked her watch. Seeing the time, she finished her cupcake, deciding it was time for her to go.
“Please excuse me ladies. I’ll head to Dr. Wilson’s office. I need to go over the report for the surgery this evening.”
Both nurses nodded, and Olivia took it as her cue to leave. She slipped out of the room. Her thoughts were already moving ahead to the long list of preparations, and everything that needed to be done to make sure the operation would go smoothly.
Walking down the long hallway, she passed through the lobby.
A man stood at the information desk, speaking quietly with the receptionist. He was tall—though not quite as tall as her husband. Handsome, but not in the obvious, head-turning way Clayton was.
His skin was sun-kissed, and his right arm was covered in tattoos. But it was the chess piece tattoo that caught her eye. It stirred a flicker of recognition, reminding her of the tattoo she had noticed on the woman in the parking area.
As if sensing her gaze, he turned.
Their eyes met for a brief moment—just a second—before he looked away and walked off.
Olivia frowned.
Have I seen him before?
No. She would have remembered. A tattoo like that wasn’t something easily forgotten.
Shaking off the thought, she continued down the hall until she reached Dr. Wilson’s office. He wasn't there when she stepped inside. Still, she took a seat, deciding it'd be better if she waited for his return.
Dr. Wilson’s office was neat, visually pleasing to the eye. Not a single thing was out of place. Papers sat in perfect stacks and books on the shelves were organized by genre. Everything had order. It was one of Olivia’s favorite places in the hospital for that very reason.
On his desk, there was a framed photo. It was a photo of Dr. Wilson and his children. She traced the edge of the frame with her thumb, a faint smile tugging at her lips. He looked younger there. There wasn’t a trace of gray in his hair. It must have been taken years ago.
Crash!
Olivia shot up from her chair, a hand flying to her chest. Her eyes darted toward the sound..
The wall frame had fallen, the glass had scattered into thousand minute pieces on the floor.
Heart racing, she crouched down and reached for it. It was an extended family picture, taken during what looked like a reunion. Her eyes scanned smiling faces until it stopped into a familiar figure of a man.
She couldn't be mistaken. It was him. The man from the hallway.
Thump. Thump.
A cold sensation crawled down her spine—the unmistakable warning she had learned not to ignore. It didn’t come often, but when it did, something was always wrong.
Very wrong. Olivia dropped the frame.
Then she sprinted. Out the door. Down the long, endless hallway. Someone called her name. She didn’t stop.
Her pulse pounded in her ears as she raced toward the patient’s room. She shoved the door open and went rigid.
There he was, the same man from the lobby, pressing a pillow down over Annalise’s face, veins popped out along his neck.
“You sick bastard! Get your hands off her!
Olivia gritted her jaw. She had spent three hours saving that woman, only for this bastard to try and end her life.
The man looked up, startled. Instinctively, he stepped back from the bed, though the pillow remained clutched in his hand. “This isn’t what it looks like—” he explained, but the look in her eyes cut him off.
“I saw enough.”
The ends of his mouth twisted in a sinister grin. “I guess I don’t have a choice, then.” He let the pillow fall. It hit the floor with a soft thud.
Slowly, he lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing something clipped to his belt.
But Olivia was faster, and a little well trained.
Her hand was already at her waist, fingers wrapping around the cold, hard steel. Not batting an eye, no second thoughts.
She raised it.
And fired.
No one dares try to harm her patient and gets away with it unscathed.