My fingers grip the steering wheel tightly as I turn onto Carmen’s street. For once, I am not distracted into daydreams by the gargantuan mansions lining each side of the road. Instead, I am immediately panicked by the ominous flashing lights of an ambulance. My foot lifts off the gas pedal in shock, and my car slowly coasts forward toward the chaos.
Is it a crime scene? I should never have left her alone. A wealthy neighborhood like this is sure to be targeted by greedy thugs looking to make a quick buck.
Or could it be something worse? I gulp down a lump of fear and drive forward until my car comes to a rest at the curb. I rip the key out of the ignition and fumble madly with my seatbelt until I am liberated. Pushing the car door open, I leap out and rush toward the ambulance. I get there just in time to see Carmen lying unconscious on a stretcher as she is carried into the back of the ambulance. Her face looks pale and ashen, except for a few streaks of blood staining her cheeks. I am too stunned to do or say anything before the vehicle’s doors slam shut in my face.
“Wait!” I shout toward the paramedics. “How is she? What happened?”
“Sorry. Can’t say,” says one of the paramedics as he moves to the front of the ambulance.
“I need to know,” I insist, following him to the driver’s side of the car. “Carmen’s family is out of town and I’m the one looking out for her.”
“Yeah? There’s another guy here who says he’s her brother-in-law. Talk to the man in the suit. We’ve got to get going.” The paramedic closes the door of the vehicle and turns on the sirens before peeling off down the driveway. The sound is nearly deafening from close range, and I stumble backward with my ears ringing.
Squinting, I see that there is a man in an elegant dark suit, standing only a few feet away. He had been on the other side of the ambulance, so I hadn’t previously noticed him. He is standing there calmly, with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks after the retreating vehicle for a moment before glancing at his watch. He does not seem ruffled or upset in the slightest.
“Do you know what happened to Carmen?” I ask him urgently. “I saw her earlier today, and she was perfectly fine.”
He turns to look at me with appraisal. His eyes scan over my cheap sweater and slacks, and his lips curl up in amusement at the sight of my scarf. “Who the hell are you?” he asks me curiously.
“I’m Owen, her sister’s...”
“Actually, I don’t care,” the man says as he turns around and walks toward a sleek black car.
The Audi R8 is even more intimidating than his suit; it makes my car look like a trash heap of scrap metal. However, I am used to being intimidated and it doesn’t slow me down. Moving forward so that I am standing directly in front of the man’s car, I lean down and place both of my palms flat on the vehicle’s hood.
“Tell me what happened to Carmen!” I roar loudly, to make sure he can hear me through the confines of his glass cage.
Frowning, the man pushes a button to roll down the window. “What do you think, smart ass? She had a miscarriage. Now get the hell out of my way.”
I stand there dumbly for a moment as the words penetrate my skull. No. A miscarriage? But...
“Move!” the man shouts as he revs his engine impatiently. “I’m fucking late for work!”
It is difficult for me to do anything. My legs feel rooted to the ground like tree stumps as I try to shuffle aside. The car screams past me as soon as I am clear, nearly nicking my toes. I stare after the black vehicle in shock. Memories rush back to me of Carmen’s horrifying nightmares of losing her baby. I remember her body trembling as I held her and tried to ease her anxiety. I tried to reassure her that things were going to be okay, but it seems like she was right all along.
Tears gather in my eyes, along with guilt. I had no idea that Carmen’s health was so critical. She was over six months pregnant, and losing her baby so late was highly unlikely. I didn’t take into account all the stress she was experiencing after her husband’s death—I thought I could be some big hero and make it all go away. Maybe if I had paid closer attention to her fears, I could have done something to help her. Maybe I could have rushed her to the hospital to get checked out after her nightmare, to make sure that her baby was healthy. But no! I had to make stupid, empty statements meant to comfort and soothe her, when I really had no earthly idea what she was going through.
How can I even call myself a doctor? What kind of worthless physician reassures someone without checking out the facts? How can I even call myself a man?
I stand there in the middle of Carmen’s driveway, staring after the black car like an idiot. Who was that suit-wearing asshole anyway? Her brother-in-law? Was he Grayson’s brother? If he was related to Carmen’s husband, it would explain why he was such a douchebag. I am sure that douchebaggery must run in that family.
Realizing that I can’t just stand here doing nothing, I briskly walk back to my beat-up old car. I am strangely furious as I fish the key out of my pocket to dig it into the lock. Yes, I don’t even have automatic locks. Not like Mr. Dolce and Gabbana over there, and probably everyone else in this blue-blooded neighborhood. But if things are so great here, then why are Carmen and Winter’s lives so fucked up? Why was Winter so damaged and afraid that she ran away from home for years? Why was Carmen so stressed and unstable that she lost her baby? Do these people care more about their things than they do about their people? Do they care more about their cars and suits than their daughters and neighbors?
On an impulse, I slam my foot outward to viciously kick the side of my car. Wincing at the pain in my toes, I turn around and lean weakly against my vehicle. I really hope that Carmen doesn’t actually lose her baby. The guy in the suit was an idiot, and he didn’t know jack shit about what he was saying. Miscarriage? Technically, at twenty-six weeks, it’s not even called a miscarriage. Yes. He was probably wrong. This thought gives me hope. Maybe Carmen’s going to be okay. I glance down at my car with guilt. The pathetic little machine really didn’t need any more dents; I’ve abused it enough over the years.
As I climb into my vehicle, my chest aches for Carmen. That poor girl.
Nothing seems to be going her way. Maybe Caroline had the right idea; maybe it’s not worth the pain and heartache of actually trying to be a normal human being and start a family. Maybe all we are is isolated city people, living on mechanical schedules like cyborgs without souls. That’s what I feel like, most of the time, working all day and night at the hospital. Robotic. Like I’m not even made from flesh and blood.
And what am I even working for? I have nothing.
Carmen was the first person I’ve met in the longest while who seemed really and truly human. Being around her made me feel more human. She wasn’t just a patient, a barcode, or a price tag, like everyone else in New York City. She was real.
And I wanted her to be okay. I wanted her to have a happy, healthy baby and a bright future. I’ve never wanted anything quite as much as I wanted this.
I’m not even quite sure why.