❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
Callie’s expression turned unexpectedly stern, her ‘mom’ side rearing it’s head. “Don’t argue with me,” the Latina added, her tone matching her facade. “The charts will be there tomorrow — and we both know Cristina is more than capable of finishing them.”
Gently, Callie grabbed Teddy’s hands, pulling her away
from the nurse’s station and toward the attending’s lounge.
“Arizona is working late tonight and Mark has Sofia, so you
can keep me company instead — and I’m not taking no for
an answer.”
Though her mind told her that the very last thing she wanted to do was spend all night trying to keep a smile on her face, her heart knew that
she needed a friend. Looking up at Callie with a kind of grateful abandon in her eyes, she sighed: “Okay, Callie. You win.”
She was too tired to fight, anyway. The coffee
did nothing for
her soul, so exhausted after the
countless sleepless nights. But maybe, just
maybe, this one wouldn’t be so bad.
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