“Keep your eyes and ears on the heart monitor, you understand me?” the surgeon demanded to the nurses in the room, along with the other doctors. “It’s too slow.” Everyone turned their attention to the screen for a brief second, watching as every small line appeared about two inches apart. “Nurse Vega, did you say she was in a head-on car collision?”

                “Yes, Doctor Mitchell. The other car was speeding and she flew forward. Her head hit the windshield, and her stomach came in rough contact with the steering wheel.”

                “Was she conscious when the paramedics arrived?” she asked, fully concentrated at the task at hand, which was checking Spencer’s vitals. Before she was worried about anything, she needed to make sure there was no fatal brain damage.

                “Yes, doctor,” the nurse confirmed again. “She was conscious but unresponsive. According to the paramedics, her pupils would not change under light and she could not form an intelligible reply to any of their questions.”

                “We need a blood transfusion, stat!” the main doctor ordered to a different doctor, turning his attention back to the heart monitor. “Okay, change of priority. It’s imperative that we stop the bleeding inside her abdomen before anything…if we don’t she’ll give out.”

                Everyone looked up and exchanged intense glances. The stress and tension in the room was thick, and Spencer’s slowing heartbeat was only intensifying everybody’s’ nerves. The doctors worked aside the main surgeon to quickly try and make the cut.

                That was when the heart monitor stopped beeping.

                Every single person froze, the sound of one, solid noise filling the operating room. On the screen was one, sold, unmoving line.