During my night shift at the hospital, two patients were brought into the emergency room. Surprisingly, they turned out to be my husband and sister-in-law. I gave a cold smile and did something nobody expected.

“I’m not his doctor,” I said evenly. “I’m the charge nurse. I make sure everything is properly recorded.”

Her face lost color.

Marcus tried to speak. “Elena… listen…”

I leaned closer, checking his pulse.

“No,” I said softly. “Tonight, you listen.”

Dr. Patel rushed in, and the room erupted into action.

“Penetrating trauma to the left shoulder,” I reported. “Blood pressure dropping. Patient conscious but confused. Possible alcohol involvement.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Marcus muttered weakly.

“Don’t write that,” Vanessa snapped.

Every nurse heard her.

“Everything said here is documented,” I replied.

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