NATE EDWARDS STOOD on the tarmac, a tiny cloth doll clutched in his hand, awaiting the Medicine Around the World plane that would whisk him away from Saint Victoria and the aftermath of the hurricane that had wreaked havoc on the small Caribbean island. His thumb rubbed across the doll’s rough cloth, trying not to picture the tearstained eyes of her parents as they presented the gift to him. But their faces were forever burned into his memory. As was the dark-haired child who had been so very sick. And yet she’d managed the tiniest of smiles for him. With the island’s hospital obliterated by the fury of the storm, there had been little hope of saving her.
But God, how he’d wanted to. How he’d fought for her.
The phone in his pocket pinged.
Hell. His team had had only the most rudimentary supplies to work with during their stay. How, then, could cell phone signals still get through?
He pulled the phone out of his pocket, glad he’d charged it before packing for the trip home.
His mom’s name appeared at the top of the screen.
Glad you’re coming home today. We have a big surprise waiting for you! Your father and I can’t wait for you to see it.
A sense of dread filled his gut. He’d hoped by coming to the island he could circumvent their plans and buy himself a little more time to explain things to them. And then there was Tara, who had been hinting about settling down once he finished specializing. Except so much had changed. He tucked the doll under his arm as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. He typed back.
Please don’t do anything until I get there.
He had no idea how he was going to tell them that he had no intention of joining their practice. After his trip to Saint Victoria—which they hadn’t approved of—the last thing he wanted to do was practice plastic surgery on the rich and famous.
One of his colleagues came up beside him. “Nate, we just got the results back on your patient’s mystery illness.”
Too late. Marie had already passed away. Still he forced himself to ask. “What was it?”
“Schistosomiasis. It must have damaged her liver and intestines beyond repair. That’s why she was so jaundiced. She had to have had it for a while.”
A parasite found in water had killed her? He closed his eyes. That possibility had never even crossed his mind. They’d had to send samples via water courier to a neighboring island, but he’d known in his heart it was too late. It should make him feel better to know there was nothing he could have done. Instead he just felt...empty. And now he had to go home and face his parents and Tara.
He forced himself to meet the eyes of his colleague. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.” Peter clapped him on the back. “Not your fault.”
“Thanks.”
What else could he say?
Just then his phone pinged again, the screen lighting up and drawing his attention to the words that were printed there.
Too late. It’s already done.
Three smiley faces appeared at the end of the phrase.
She was right. It was already done. All of it.
Marie. This trip. His decision about what to do with his future.
Maybe Tara would understand. Maybe she’d even want to join him.
He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and cradled the worn doll in his palms.
Because he was coming back to this island, someday, and he was going to use his training to do something good. Something worthwhile.
If it took every penny he had.