Heart Like Mine by Maggie McGinnis Page B

he?”
    Joshua blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Is that better? Is that what you want to hear?”
    She put her head down, picturing the fear in the little boy’s eyes. “No.”
    â€œThat’s why I say the other.”
    â€œOkay.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Okay.”
    He stepped back. “I need to get to the nurses’ station and check on things. I’ll send Millie down here. She’ll show you where you can shower and put on some clean scrubs.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œYou did great, Delaney.”
    â€œRight.” She swallowed. “I’m not—I didn’t—oh, God.” She felt tears prickling behind her eyes, and she did everything she could not to let them seep out.
    â€œHey.” He stepped back toward her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You did your best. That’s all any of us can do.” His eyes searched hers. “Are you okay? Really?”
    â€œYes.” She nodded. “I’m … fine. Just need a moment.”
    He squeezed her, then let go, but paused before he turned. “I’ll send Millie down.”
    As he left the room, Delaney felt her knees start shaking, then her thighs. All of the adrenaline that had fueled her through the past twenty minutes was still cruising around her system with no outlet, and as her fingers tingled, she wondered what it felt like to faint.
    She took a deep breath, remembering Joshua’s hand on her neck, his quiet words in her ear.
    Dammit, this is why she sat on the sixth floor. And this is why med school had only been a pipe dream. She wasn’t wired to handle this stuff. Wasn’t equipped in the least.
    Because creating a pseudo-spa with Charlotte yesterday wasn’t pediatric-floor reality.
    This was reality.
    *   *   *
    Twenty minutes later, Delaney turned the water up hotter, nearly scorching her skin. She’d been in the pediatric floor’s shower cubicle for ten minutes already, but still couldn’t get the feel of the blood off her skin. Couldn’t get the smell out of her nose. Couldn’t get the sight of the poor little boy’s frightened eyes out of her head.
    She was still embarrassed at how close she’d been to fainting when Dr. Mackenzie had walked in. The sight of that blood … on her own hands … had brought her back to med school, back to the horrifying day she’d finally realized that though she’d graduated at the top of her undergrad class and was on a full scholarship, she just—didn’t belong there.
    She’d spent her entire childhood hearing hospital stories from her dad. He reveled in talking about new procedures, or tough cases he’d had, and through it all, she’d nodded and listened and tried to quell her gag reflex.
    When it had come time to pick a college, his alma mater had come calling with a scholarship, and she’d accepted, thinking everything was falling into place just perfectly. Then she’d sailed through four years, got into her top-choice med school, and was pretty sure she was on her way to a stellar medical career.
    But then came reality.
    She’d run out of the dissection lab on a sunny April afternoon and showered until the water ran cold in her apartment. Then she’d waited an hour for the water heater to warm up the tank, and she’d done it again. She’d been dreading dissection since day one, but had somehow managed to power through … until the day they were supposed to work on hands.
    As she’d stared down at the table, she hadn’t been able to begin. While other body parts were just—parts, this wasn’t. All she’d been able to think about was all of the projects these particular hands had done, the little heads they had comforted, the other hands they’d held.
    And she just—hadn’t been able to continue.
    It had taken her a full week to tell her father