If you’ll follow me to triage room three.”
Sterling didn’t move. He looked at her outstretched hand, then back at her face, his expression hardening. “Nurse Jenkins,” Sterling said, testing the name like it was a questionable piece of meat.
“Are you active duty?”
Sarah blinked, surprised by the question. “I am a civilian nurse, Colonel. I’ve been with Balboa for fifteen years.
Now, if you…”
“Civilian,” Sterling interrupted, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. He let out a sharp, derisive exhale. “I specifically requested a military provider.
I need someone who understands combat trauma, not someone who’s used to putting Band-Aids on dependents’ scraped knees.”
The lobby went quiet. A few heads turned. Sarah lowered her hand slowly.
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