Chapter 4 A Small, Strange Thing

• Danny Reyes was a construction worker in Bay Three. He had fallen off some scaffolding and suffered a deep cut on his forearm. It looked bad enough that Emily thought he might need a surgical consult before they closed it.
• Emily had seen worse wounds, but something about this one felt off. While she waited for Kael to arrive, she noticed something strange.
• "Hurts like hell," Danny said, wincing. "My coworker said I might need stitches or even a plate."
• "Let's get some images first," Emily replied with a practiced, reassuring smile.
• As she checked the wound again, she froze. The bleeding had slowed, which was normal for a pressure dressing. But the edges of the cut looked cleaner. They weren't healed, but they looked less "raw" than they had five minutes ago. It was as if the wound had decided to behave better than it should.
• Emily tried to ignore it, but this was the third time in two weeks she’d seen something like this. First, there was a scar in a patient's chart. Then, a bruise on another patient that faded from purple to yellow overnight—which is physically impossible. She had started a mental list of these anomalies, all of which happened in this specific ward.
• "Everything okay?" Danny asked.
• "Fine," Emily said quickly. She focused on re-taping the dressing to hide her confusion.
• Kael arrived a few minutes later. He examined the wound calmly and ordered a simple closure: stitches and antibiotics. No plate or surgery was needed. It was a routine case, even for St. Aurora’s.
• Emily watched him work. She had always admired his precision, but now she was looking for something else. She wasn't sure what, but she was searching for a clue.
• Kael caught her staring. He lifted an eyebrow. "Something wrong with my stitching?"
• "No. Sorry," she said, looking away. "Long night."
• "They usually are," he replied. He finished the last suture with quiet pride and stepped back. "He'll be fine. Clean wound, good closure."
• "No reason for concern at all," Emily echoed.
• She didn't tell him what she was actually thinking. She noticed that Danny’s arm looked better after twenty minutes than most wounds do after two hours. More importantly, all three of these "strange things" had happened whenever Kael Thornwood was nearby.
• She wasn't ready to say this out loud. She trusted her eyes—six years of nursing had taught her that—but she wasn't ready for the answer. She liked Kael. She enjoyed their 4:00 a.m. coffees and his half-smiles. She didn't want to find a reason to be afraid of him.
• She filed the observation away like a splinter she didn't have time to remove mid-shift.
• "You've been quiet tonight," Kael said as he peeled off his gloves.
• "Just tired."
• He studied her for a moment, as if reading between the lines. For a second, she thought he might push for the truth. Instead, he softened.
• "Go home when your shift ends," he said. "Actually go home. No parking lot naps, no double shifts."
• "Yes, doctor."
• "I mean it, Emily."
• The way he said her name felt protective and certain. It stirred something in her chest that she couldn't yet name.
• "I hear you," she said.
• Emily went home as the sun rose. She lay awake for a long time, thinking about three small mysteries and one big, unspoken question she wasn't yet brave enough to ask.