“Besides your chest, are you hurting anywhere else?” Pesh asked, after he finished listening to her heart and lungs.

“My stomach.”

Megan’s breath hitched. It was never good for a car accident patient to have stomach pains. That usually meant hemorrhaging, which could also attribute the low blood pressure.

Pressing on Mary’s abdomen, Pesh asked, “Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“Here?”

“No.”

“What about here?”

A screech came from the bed. Pesh’s brows drew with worry. “I’m going to do a quick ultrasound, Mary. I want to see what’s causing the pain.”

“Okay.”

Megan pulled the machine over to the bedside. She squirted the jelly onto Mary’s stomach, and then Pesh began running the wand over the skin.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy, too,” Mary said, in a low voice.

Pesh and Megan exchanged a quick look before he shoved the ultrasound machine back. Turning to Kristi, he said, “Call the OR. She’s got a ruptured spleen.”

After depressing the break on the gurney, Pesh swung it out of the trauma room and started down the hall. “Go with him,” Kristi instructed, as she held onto the phone.

Megan jogged down the hall to catch up with Pesh. He smacked the buttons on the elevator before glancing down at Mary. “Stay with me, okay? We’re going to get you into surgery, and then you’ll be good as new.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Without hesitation, Pesh replied, “Yes, but you have to stay with me.”

The elevator’s doors slid open. As Megan helped Pesh push the gurney inside, Mary asked, “Did you turn on more lights?”

Megan creased her brows in worry as she glanced over to Pesh. “We’re getting in the elevator to take you to the OR for surgery,” she replied.

“But it’s so bright,” Mary whispered before closing her eyes. Her head lolled to the side just as the alarms on the monitors began screeching in Megan’s ears. “Dammit, she’s crashing!” Pesh cried.

Ice-cold fear pricked its way from the top of Megan’s head all the way down her body. A patient was crashing in the elevator without the crash cart. What the hell were they supposed to do? “Lower the gurney,” Pesh ordered.

Megan’s jerky hands fumbled with the lever. Once it was flat, Pesh brought his hands to Mary’s chest and began compressions. Without having to be told, Megan leaned down, pinched Mary’s nose, and began breathing into her mouth. They worked in perfect synchronization.

“Stay with me, Mary!” Pesh barked, as his hands pumped in a manic pace up and down on Mary’s chest.

Glancing up from her breathing, Megan eyed the monitors. “No pulse.”

When Pesh didn’t respond, she continued doing breathing cycles. At the taste of something warm meeting her lips, she jerked back. Blood oozed out of Mary’s mouth. “There’s more damage than the spleen. She’s bleeding from the mouth.” Pesh didn’t even acknowledge her comment. “The seat belt and airbag could have caused an aortic tear as well. There’s nothing we can do.”

Instead, he kept right on with his compressions. The elevator doors opened, and Megan met the expectant faces of the surgical team. When one doctor stepped forward, she shook her head. “She’s gone.”

Pesh growled across from her. “No, she isn’t. We have to keep trying. Get a cart in here.”

The doctor eyed the stats on the monitors. “I don’t think it will help.”

Jerking his head up from Mary, Pesh snarled, “Get the f**king cart!”

As one of the nurses scrambled away, two others pulled the gurney from the elevator. Megan stood back, feeling helpless as to what to do. Once the cart arrived, Pesh ripped open Mary’s gown. “Charging 260 joules.” He rubbed the paddles together. “Clear!”

Mary’s chest jolted off the gurney with the force of the electricity. Megan didn’t need to look at the monitors. The heart stayed in a flat line. “Charging 360 joules.” Megan closed her eyes when Pesh administered the second shock. “Dammit, Jade, don’t do this! Try for me!”

Megan couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped her at Pesh calling Mary by his late wife’s name. Before Pesh could do another charge, one of the surgeon’s stepped forward. After he removed his mask, he put his hand on Pesh’s back. “Calling time of death.”

Defeated, Pesh dropped his head. Slowly, he eased back from the gurney. A nurse took the paddles from him and put them back on the cart. “I’ll go notify the family,” Pesh murmured.

The surgeon shook his head and stared pointedly at Megan. “Get a resident to do that. Nadeen, you go take a breather, buddy.”

“They deserve to speak to the doctor who was with her when she died.”

“You don’t need to do this.”

Pesh slung away from the surgeon and started for the elevator. Megan knew there was no point in arguing with him or trying to get one of the residents to take his place. She didn’t know if she should try to go to him or not. She regretted her decision when he turned to face her in the elevator. His expression was agonizingly broken. As the doors closed, her heart ached for him. She knew any doctor hated to lose a patient, especially a young one, but this went far deeper than that. From his behavior, Megan knew that Mary’s death had exposed a raw nerve in Pesh—one that after two years still hadn’t healed. Somehow he had seen his wife in Mary, and once again, he wasn’t able to save her.

After she had escorted Mary’s body back upstairs to wait on the funeral home, Megan went in search of Pesh. She couldn’t find him in any of the exam rooms, nor was he in the doctors’ lounge or break room. Finally, she went to Kristi for answers. “Did you see where Dr. Nadeen went?”

Kristi gave her a sad smile. “You’ll probably find him on the roof.”

Megan’s brows shot up in surprise. “The roof?”

Kristi nodded. “Whenever he has a really bad day about his wife—” She sucked in a breath when she realized she might have said too much.

At the thought of Pesh’s grief, Megan’s chest tightened in agony. He was too good of a man to have to suffer like he did. “So he goes up to the roof?” Megan finished for Kristi.

“He likes to be alone to clear his head. Although none of us would say anything, he usually ends up pulling another shift to make up for the time he was gone.”