Charlton looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but then stopped. His eyes carried an emotion so tangled it felt almost foreign. I no longer cared to untangle it.
“Let’s go,” I said, my voice cold.
Mariam escorted me down the corridor and into the ward. The white ward door was locked. Her tone was ice as she said, “You will not step out of here until you train someone who can perform that operation.”
I did not struggle.
They did not know that I had never intended to teach that surgery to them in the first place. Five years ago, when my son was still alive, I had already wanted to take on an apprentice. I wanted to save more patients, but there simply had not been time.
For five years, I fell asleep only after running the operation step by step in my head, terrified that I might forget. What was happening now was only me fulfilling the mission I had set for myself sooner than planned. By the time I was released again, my spirit would already be frayed.
Luca’s surgery was scheduled for three days from now.
That night, Charlton and Mariam returned home, something that rarely happened.