Elena’s POV.
“Yes, Doctor!” Mr. Gable bolted out of the room.
The moment the door shut, I turned back to Raymond. His grip on my forearm slackened, his dark eyes rolling back as shock and blood loss dragged him under once again.
“Ramona, please help me hold pressure,” I instructed softly.
For the next twenty minutes while waiting for the supplies, I worked feverishly to clean the surrounding skin and stem the heaviest arterial bleeding. Ramona sat on the edge of the bed, weeping quietly, holding her son’s limp hand against her cheek.
When Mr. Gable returned out of breath with two heavy cases of medical gear, I didn’t waste a second.
I set up a portable IV line, pushing fluids and clotting agents directly into his vein. Then, taking a deep breath, I threaded my curved needle.
The roo
