Page 39 of Zorro

Madeline saw it. She crossed the space in a heartbeat, gripping Everly’s arm and guiding her to the edge of the stage platform where a folding chair sat half-buried in cables.

“You didn’t know,” Madeline said softly, her voice cracking. “Oh my God. You didn’t know.”

Everly shook her head, slowly, once.

Madeline’s hands fluttered, helpless. “I told him,” she said, frantic now. “I told him it was his decision if he stayed, but the staff had to be informed. You had to be told. He promised me, Ev. He said he would explain. That you two had talked about the risk. That you supported him.”

Everly closed her eyes, her whole body rigid with the effort to keep from unraveling. “He didn’t,” she said, her voice raw. “He told me he had no choice. That the military refused to evacuate him. That they left him to die.”

Madeline sat beside her, trembling. “I’m so sorry. I left. I evacuated. I told him the operators weren’t bluffing. They don’t bluff. You’ve seen them. You know. But he refused. Said it was his hospital, his patients, his call. I thought he told you. I thought that guilt wasn’t yours.”

It was too much.

Everly folded forward, elbows braced to her knees, a hand to her mouth like it could stop the howl working its way up her throat. But it was too late. The truth had landed, and it was merciless.

He stayed. He chose it.

He lied.

She had built an entire cathedral of grief around that lie.

“Good morning, and welcome to the eighth Annual White Line Symposium,” Madeline said, her voice clear and practiced at the podium. “On behalf of the conference committee, we’re honored to host you here in Rio de Janeiro for a week of innovation, collaboration, and commitment to field medicine, trauma care, and surgical response under fire.”

A polite ripple of applause moved through the room.

“Before we begin,” she continued, “a brief update. As many of you know, our original keynote speaker, Dr. Caroline Devlin, was forced to withdraw due to a family emergency. While we were disappointed, we are incredibly fortunate to have someone uniquely qualified to step into her place.”

A few discordant murmurs moved through the crowd.

“Please join me,” Madeline said with a knowing smile, “in welcoming this year’s keynote speaker, Dr. Everly Quinn.”

The reaction was instant. A low hum surged into applause. Then louder. Then sustained.

Everly, waiting in the wings, froze.

It wasn’t just polite clapping. It wasn’t even recognition. It was…respect.

The kind that came from reputation. From the kind of work she never did for applause. From people who knew her name and had been waiting to hear what she had to say.

Her stomach flipped. Her pulse skittered. This wasn’t what she expected. It felt like standing on a cliff’s edge with the wind at her back and no tether.

Madeline pressed on, voice warm and sure.

“Dr. Quinn is a graduate of the University of Chicago, where she completed her undergraduate degree in biochemistry before attending Johns Hopkins Medical School on a full merit scholarship. She completed her surgical residency at Massachusetts General, followed by a trauma fellowship with a dual focus in combat field response and infectious disease integration.”

More heads lifted now. Recognition. Admiration. Even from the clinical corners of the audience.

“She has served with Doctors Without Borders and the Red Crescent Alliance, establishing emergency triage protocol during post-cyclone recovery in Mozambique and co-developing scalable blood-conservation techniques in rural Uganda. Her white paper on battlefield transfusion compression ratios, Pulse, Pressure, and the Paradox of Prolonged Bleeds, was adopted by the ICRC in their updated trauma guidelines last year.”

A few murmurs of acknowledgment rippled through the physicians clustered in the front rows.

“Dr. Quinn is currently stationed in the Philippines with Doctors for the World, serving as lead trauma consultant for Regions XI and XIII. She stepped in to fill the post of the late Dr. Gregory Matthews, who was killed while partnering with Dr. Bayani Aquino and Dr. Jaslene Bacunawa to immunize underserved communities against a resurgence of tuberculosis along the Agusan Valley. Dr. Quinn’s research into mobile sterility and cross-contamination in jungle-adjacent trauma wards is already changing how field medicine is approached in climate-challenged zones.”

Silence fell.

Madeline’s tone softened.

“But what many don’t know is that Dr. Quinn didn’t hesitate. She flew out less than seventy-two hours after the call. She’s been in-country ever since. Her work speaks for itself. Her record speaks for itself. Today, we have the rare opportunity to hear from her, not only as a trauma surgeon, but as a survivor. A voice forged in fire. A woman who carries the weight of the wounded and still finds the strength to stand and speak.”

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