**Diary Entry October 12th**
The city was wrapped in shadows, its silence broken only by the distant wail of an ambulance. Inside the hospital, the corridors hummed with the quiet agony of unseen suffering. The night was tense, teetering on the edge of chaos, as if fate itself was testing those who stood between life and death.
In the operating theatre, beneath the harsh glare of surgical lights, Richard Hayesa surgeon with twenty years of experience, a man whose hands had saved countless livesworked with mechanical precision. His movements were exact, his focus unshaken, as if he was navigating the fragile thread between life and oblivion. Fatigue weighed on him like a lead cloak, but weakness was a luxury he couldnt afford. Beside him, Nurse Emily moved like a shadow, passing instruments with steady hands, her eyes flickering with quiet determination.
“Sutures,” Richard murmured, his voice low but firman order to fate itself.
The operation was nearly over. Just a few more minutes, and the patient would be safe. But then, as if reality had decided to intervene, the doors burst open. The head nurse stood there, her face etched with panic.
“Richard! Emergencyunconscious woman, multiple contusions, suspected internal bleeding!”
He didnt hesitate. “Finish here,” he told his assistant, stripping off his gloves. “Emily, with me.”
The A&E was chaosshouts, footsteps, the sterile scent of antiseptic. On the gurney lay a woman in her thirties, her face deathly pale, her skin mottled with bruises. Richards trained eyes scanned her, dissecting the truth beneath the injuries. This wasnt an accident. The symmetrical burns on her wrists, the scars on her abdomenthese were deliberate. Torture.
“Prep for laparotomy,” he ordered. “Get blood typing, IVs, call ICU. Now.”
“Who brought her in?” he asked the duty nurse.
“Her husband. Says she fell down the stairs.”
Richard scoffed. Stairs didnt leave marks like these.
Thirty minutes later, the woman was on the table. Richard worked like a machine, stopping the bleeding, repairing the damage. Then he froze. Beneath the fresh wounds were older onescarved words, burned symbols. Like someone had tried to erase her identity.
“Emily,” he said quietly. “Find the husband. Make sure he doesnt leave. And call the police. Quietly.”
“You think?”
“Thats for the detectives to decide. But these injuries? Theyre not from a fall. This is systematic. Brutal.”
The operation lasted another hour. Her heart stabilised. Her life was savedbut not her soul.
In the corridor, exhaustion crashed over Richard like a wave. A young constable waited, notebook in hand. “Inspector Lawsons on his way. What can you tell me?”
Richard listed it allinternal bleeding, ruptured spleen, old fractures, burns, cuts. “This wasnt an accident. Someones been destroying her. And its probably the man who swore to protect her.”
Minutes later, Inspector Lawson arrivedsharp-eyed, unreadable. “Do you know the victim?”
“Never seen her before. But if we hadnt acted, she wouldnt have lasted the night. Her bodys a map of suffering. Every scar tells a story.”
Lawson nodded, then headed to A&E. Richard followed, already part of this story.
In the waiting room, a man pacedneat, blond, a mask of concern on his face. “Hows my wife? Whats happened to Alice?”
“Alice Victoria Carter?” Lawson confirmed. “Youre her husband, James Whitmore?”
“Yes! Tell me, is she all right?”
“Critical but stable,” Richard said flatly. “How exactly did she fall?”
“Tripped on the stairs. I was in the kitchenheard the crash.”
“And you brought her straight here?” Lawson pressed.
“Of course! I wouldnt just leave her!”
Richard watched him. The perfect husbandexcept for the coldness in his eyes, the control lurking beneath the panic.
“Mr. Whitmore,” Lawson said firmly, “your wife has old injuries. Burns, cuts, fractures. Care to explain?”
James stiffened. “Shes clumsy! Always burning herself cooking!”
“Cooking leaves symmetrical burns on both wrists?” Richard cut in. “And the cuts on her stomachculinary mishaps?”
James paled. “Are you accusing me? My wifes in hospital, and youre interrogating me!”
“No accusations,” Lawson said calmly. “Just questions.”
Then Emily appeared. “Richard, shes awake. Asking for her husband.”
James lunged forward. “I need to see her!”
“Not possible,” Richard said. “Only family. But Inspectoryou should speak to her. The truths in her words.”
Lawson entered the ICU. Alice lay frail, tubes snaking around her. “Has James come?” she whispered.
“Hes outside,” Richard said. “How are you feeling?”
“Everything hurts Did I fall?”
Lawson introduced himself. “Alice, do you remember how you got these injuries?”
She hesitated. “I tripped on the stairs. James always says Im careless.”
“And the burns on your wrists? From cooking?”
Fear flashed in her eyes. “I Im not careful.”
“Alice,” Richard said gently, “weve seen your injuries. This wasnt an accident. Someone hurt you. We can helpbut you have to tell the truth.”
She looked away. Tears spilled. “If I do itll get worse.”
“Has he threatened you?” Lawson asked quietly.
Silence. More tears.
“We can protect you,” Lawson said. “But we need a statement. Otherwise, when you leave itll happen again.”
“Hes not always like this Sometimes hes kind. Then something snaps.”
“How long?”
“A year Since I lost my job. He said I belonged to him now. Had to be perfect.”
The door flew open. James charged in. “Alice! Ive been so worried!”
Lawson blocked him. “Out. Now.”
“By what right? Im her husband!”
“By the law. And I have reason to believe these injuries are criminal.”
Jamess face twisted. “What lies have you told them? Youll regret this!”
Alice stared at him. Not loveterror. “I cant do this anymore Im scared of you. Every nightwill it be my husband or a monster? You said no one would believe me”
James snarled, lungingbut Lawson twisted his arms, snapping cuffs on. “James Whitmore, youre under arrest for grievous bodily harm. You have the right to remain silent.”
As he was dragged away, Alice sobbednot in pain, but relief. “Thank you Id forgotten what safety felt like.”
Richard touched her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Rest now.”
“But what after? Ive got no one”
“There are shelters. Counsellors, lawyers, safe houses. Youre not alone.”
“What if he comes back?”
“With your statement and our evidence? He wont see daylight for years. And a restraining order will keep him away.”
A week later, Richard found Alice in her room, holding hands with an older womanher mother.
“Doctor, this is Mum. Shes taking me home.”
Richard smiled. “Glad to hear it. Like waking from a nightmare.”
“You saved my daughter twice,” her mother said. “From death. And from hell.”
Richard shook his head. “I just looked deeper. Sometimes thats all it takes to change a life.”
That night, under a sky thick with stars, Richard wonderedhow many others were out there, silent and afraid? But he knew this much: when a doctor sees not just the body, but the soul, he doesnt just heal. He resurrects.
And thatthat is the truest medicine.
