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the hospital. She was shadowing Judy, a twenty-three year veteran of the nursing profession.
    “How’s he doing?” Melissa asked.
    Judy checked his bandaged head. “His head will be hurting for a while. He’s lucky he made it. A father and son in a car out there didn’t even have a chance last night.”
    Melissa raised her hand to her mouth at the mere thought of the chaotic bridge. Although she loved to help those in need, she hated to think about the pain and suffering others faced.
    “Oh dear, how many total?” Melissa asked.
    “So far, three dead and nine injured. Everything is just so hectic.”
    “I can’t believe what happened. It seems what could go wrong, went wrong,” Melissa said softly as she took a deep breath. “Do we have all nine here?”
    “No, we have five here. Southern General has four,” Judy explained.
    Both leaned in to Roger and watched his chest rise with each involuntary breath. Melissa wondered whether this handsome man had a family. If he did, where were they?
    Southern General Hospital, the historically older hospital in the city, housed a similar room with dim lights and hospital machines. This room, however, had even more critical devices plugged into the room’s occupant, Lois Belkin. Lois arrived forty-six minutes after the moment of impact as Southern General was across the city. She was covered in a blue gown and had a look of exhaustion on her face. Lois had more trouble with the E.R. team last night, as unconsciousness triggered her body to surrender to a comatose state.
    Lois was fortunate to be staying at Southern General, not because of having a private room or high-tech equipment, but due to the full-time head nurse on the recovery floor. Nurse Ann Stevens was a nurse’s nurse, with her mothering and nurturing approach to health care and recovery. She firmly believed that it was just as important to talk to patients and offer them compassion whether they were awake or dormant. Although she was only thirty-seven, she had received the hospital alliance’s “Nurse of the Year” award six times in the past fifteen-years.
    As Lois lay on the undemanding bed, mind separated from body, her heartbeats echoed off the stark white walls. The low-angled sun outlined the drawn blinds, which meant a stop by the floor nurse. Normally, one of Nurse Ann’s runners would do the honors, but she quickly took Lois under her wing after her late-night arrival. This was not because others on her floor were less important, but because no one knew Lois’ name. She was referred to as “Jane Doe” upon arrival, and Nurse Ann wanted to uncover the identity of the fallen angel left on her doorstep.
    Nurse Ann led the new shift doctor into Lois’ lair as the gray-haired man checked his chart.
    “…and this one was rescued out of the water. Do we have any identification?” the doctor asked.
    “No, doctor. No pockets on the dress she was wearing,” Nurse Ann replied.
    “Her chart says she has an arm fracture and had some internal bleeding, but it looks like the E.R. stabilized her last night. I hope she pulls out of the coma. There really is very little we can do now but wait,” added the doctor, who checked the sleeping woman listed as “Jane Doe” in his chart.
    “The police were here earlier. I think they’re going to try to track down her identity,” Nurse Ann responded.
    She leaned in close and placed her hand on Lois’ cheek, her radiating skin now pale and colorless. Lois’ face felt cold and lifeless to Nurse Ann as she combed the sleeping woman’s eyebrow with her fingertip. Then, she moved closer, positioned her mouth near Lois’ ear, and whispered softly like a warm morning breeze, “Who are you, dear? I’m sure someone out there misses you.”
     
     
     
    6
     
     
    The sun was setting outside Roger’s hospital window. The light lowered in his room, bringing it closer to darkness. His heartbeat monitor seemed to pick up beats. Then, Roger’s arm twitched ever so