Malbonte

He'd been a doctor for over ten years and had long since stopped dividing shifts into light and heavy. On this day, he'd planned to leave early, but he agreed to cover for a colleague and work an extra shift in the emergency room.

The evening was quiet until the dispatcher relayed an emergency call: a winter skating rink, severe bleeding. A siren broke the silence, and he automatically ran through the possible injuries in his head.

The rink greeted them with bright lights and a crowd. A girl lay on the ice, motionless, unnaturally still. Blood darkened beneath her. She was conscious, her eyes wide with fear. Her hand was shaking, and it was immediately obvious that one finger was missing.

A woman in skates nearby screamed, repeating that it was an accident. He didn't listen.

He knelt down next to the girl, seeing only her pale face. The blade had cut her finger almost cleanly, making the injury seem even more horrific.

• Look at me.

He said calmly.

• Don't close your eyes.

He spoke to her the entire time they lifted her onto a stretcher and wheeled her away. She held on to his gaze as if it were her only support.

He leaned closer and said.

"Listen to me. I know you're hurt and scared, and you don't understand what's coming next. But you're alive, you're here, and that's the most important thing right now. We're already on our way to the hospital, they're waiting for you there, and we'll do everything possible and impossible. I'll be by your side until the very end of this road, and you won't be alone for a minute. Just hold on to my voice, breathe with me, and know—you're stronger than you think now."