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Sarah couldn’t help the feeling of sadness that swept over her. She had no idea if she’d helped or made things worse for him.
    In a matter of minutes, she heard the roar of the car engine speeding away. She sighed and turned to Lily. “Why don’t you get out of here?” Sarah walked over to the desk and collapsed on the chair, her tired muscles screaming in protest.
    “Okay.” Lily grabbed her purse and produced an apple. “Eat,” she ordered.
    Sarah took the fruit and wiped it on her coat before taking a bite. “Get some sleep, and come back in the morning.” She pointed to the door by way of dismissal.
    “Do you think he’ll make it?” Lily looked at her with eyes that mirrored her own uncertainties.
    “He survived the operation. That’s all I can tell you. We’ll have to see if his condition improves.” Sarah glanced at the now-empty table. Her heart started pounding against her chest again. I will pray for him.
    “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Do you need anything before I leave?”
    “No, I’ll be okay. Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome. You know what? I was happy to help.” Lily smiled and turned to the door. “I’ll be back in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”
    When the doors had slid shut, Sarah leaned back in the stiff chair and closed her eyes, collecting herself for a moment. It had been a long evening. She made a mental note to stop asking Dotson’Sa for action. After tonight, she’d rather deal with common colds and flu any day.
    She put the apple down on the desk, not feeling hungry despite her empty stomach. While the remnants of the receding adrenaline drained out, she stretched her legs under the desk and stretched her arms upward. It felt great, her tense muscles relaxing after hours of intense rush. She knew she was too tired to walk home. She’d sleep here and clean up in the morning. Sleep sounded very good now that her body had slowed down into a pleasant, dull rhythm. Massaging her scalp, she could feel lethargy begin to seep in, and she embraced the short reprieve she needed after the tense evening.
    It was two in the morning when she woke. Even with the little nap, she still felt drained and exhausted. She made herself get up to turn off the lights.
    Her back was screaming at her. Staggering back to the desk, she sat down with a weary sigh. Notes. She still had to write them, so sleep had to wait. She turned on the desk lamp and pulled one of the drawers open, took a paper, and began documenting the events of the evening: each procedure she’d performed, the dosages of Demerol given, and the vital sign readings that led to the spontaneous blood transfusion.
    Once she’d finished, Sarah reviewed what she wrote. This record would have to be reviewed by Dr. Ancheta once she found someone to take it to him in Fairbanks in the morning. Man, that part made her cringe. It wouldn’t go well if they found out she wasn’t a licensed physician. But what could they do, revoke a license she didn’t even have yet?
    A bubble of hysteria rose up her throat, making it impossible to swallow. With the quiet surrounding her, the full weight of her actions descended on her, making Sarah second-guess her decision to save the man’s life. Could this one incident destroy her chance to become a full-fledged doctor? Had her dreams ended tonight?
    Sarah glanced at the empty, still-bloodied table a few feet away, and she hoped he was worth the effort.
    Since everything had happened in one quick blur, going over the entire incident made her head ache. Reading and re-reading what she wrote was another thing. Her eyes fluttered closed several times and began to water when she strained harder to keep them open. At long last, she paused to take a short break, resting her head on her arm, but exhaustion won. She soon fell asleep, her notes sitting under her nose, and her long, black hair splayed all over the table.  
     
    The mind had a cunning way of alerting the rest of the body when it