Page 70 of Her Only Hero

“June, you did nothing wrong.”

“But I did. I pulled a trigger. And now a man is in a coma. Well, he was in a coma last night. I don’t know his status today.”

“You said he sustained a shoulder injury?”

“Yes.”

“Those wounds are usually not fatal. He should be better with fluids and antibiotics. If it’s an infection he’s fighting.”

“The not knowing and waiting is so hard.”

Aram turned to his desk drawer and pulled out a coconut-filled chocolate bar.

Way back when, he’d given me this particular treat whenever I was having a challenging day.

“A Tropical Delight,” I said. “I haven’t had one of these since…” I stopped myself from finishing the sentence. “Thank you, Aram.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s put your mind at rest and see how Mr. Moreno is doing this morning.” Aram awakened his computer screen and logged into St. Eugene’s Hospital portal. He typed in the name, and the file came up. He scrolled down the series of results and reports and read them out loud.

“Single gunshot, left posterior shoulder.”

“Wait. Posterior?”

“Yes, that’s what it says.”

How had my bullet hit him in the back? Had it ricocheted?

Aram kept reading. “Vitals are listed. And here are bloodwork reports. His hemoglobin is quite low,” Aram said. “His D-Dimer is elevated—not a surprise from bleeding.”

I listened intently.

“This is interesting,” he said.

“What?”

“He has some renal dysfunction. His coagulation results are abnormal. Bleeding time is increased.”

“No wonder he was bleeding so much.” I watched the screen as Aram scrolled. “Is there a history?”

Aram clicked on a few tabs. “Yes, there is. Von Willebrand’s disease.”

“Von Willebrand’s?” I said. “He sounds like a sick man.”

“Yeah, I’d say he isn’t well. And he is being treated at the hematology clinic at St. Eugene’s,” Aram said.

My ears perked up. “Who is the specialist?”

“Dr. Fulthorpe.”

“They know each other? This can’t be a coincidence. They are connected in all of this somehow,” I said.

“I agree with you. And speaking of another connection. You’ll never guess who called me.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Gideon Crawford. The receptionist had told him I had called looking for Dr. Fulthorpe. He said Dr. Fulthorpe was away and asked if he could assist me instead.”

“What did you say?”

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