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Medical Center. Ward.
"Her condition's beyond treatment now. She's only hanging on because of her will to live and our efforts to save her."
Adam looked at them. "We can either keep dragging this out until her will and our efforts aren't enough anymore, or sign the N.O.R. and stop resuscitation."
The three nieces and nephews exchanged glances, each giving a wry smile.
The first option? They'd already dragged it out so long they were losing patience.
The second? Their aunt still had the will to live, meaning she wasn't ready to go.
If they truly loved her and could bring themselves to do it, they would've done it ages ago. No way they'd still be stuck in this endless delay.
"Bring the papers."
At that moment, the old lady slowly woke up, opened her eyes, and spoke.
"Aunt Joyce…"
The three nieces and nephews looked ashamed.
"It's not your fault."
The old lady smiled. "You're all good kids, the best family I could ask for. Every time you've come to keep me company, you've given me the courage to keep going. That's more than enough. Honestly, I don't want to keep putting you through this either. It's either lying in a hospital bed getting emergency treatment or on the way to the hospital for more of it. I'm tired of living like this. I know you love me. So let me leave this painful body with the happiness of loving and being loved."
"Aunt Joyce…" The niece burst into tears.
The two nephews' eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"Doctor."
The old lady turned to Adam with a smile.
"Grey!"
Adam nodded to Lexie. "Go get the D.N.R. forms."
"…Okay."
Lexie hesitated but went anyway.
Once the papers were signed, it didn't take long for the old lady to slip into critical condition again. This time, there was no attempt to save her. Her heartbeat flatlined completely.
"Time of death: 15:34."
Lexie announced it voluntarily, then turned to the three nieces and nephews. "You can catch your flight now, go to your board meeting, handle your business."
"Dr. Grey, you can get back to your work too," Adam reminded her.
The three stood there, motionless, silently crying.
Clearly, now that death had actually arrived, they finally understood what it meant to lose someone they deeply loved.
Adam shook his head.
God sure had a twisted sense of humor.
What a mess.
They were a loving family, but if this dragged on—three more years, then another three—who knows what unbearable things might've happened?
No one's to blame here. Just God, maybe.
---
A Few Days Later
"Congrats!"
Adam grinned at a radiant Christina.
"What's there to congratulate?" Christina said proudly. "It's only natural."
"Heh."
Adam chuckled, caught off guard.
Fair enough!
After discussions among the chief of surgery and the attending physicians, Christina, the top resident, had beaten out Meredith and the rest of her peers with zero competition. She'd earned the honor of leading her first surgery.
"Guess you're right," Adam teased. "This year's batch isn't exactly impressive. No one's even close to challenging you. Believe me, I get it."
"…"
Christina shot him a sideways glance as he walked off, swallowing a retort that stuck in her throat.
---
The Next Day
Christina got word that a patient had a hernia and needed repair surgery. She took her interns, handled the pre-op rounds as the lead surgeon, then told them to prep the patient. She headed to the operating room early, standing at the head surgeon's spot, looking around with excitement in her eyes.
Ten years sharpening her skills, and now it was time to shine.
Today, she'd show the world who could fix their ailments.
"Is this the moment you finally get why being a doctor's so great?"
Just as Christina was riding high, watching everything fall into place, Adam strolled in with a grin.
"Yeah," she admitted, not hiding her excitement. Her small eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what are you doing here?"
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"Just here to read a bit. Don't mind me."
Adam waved a sterilized math textbook, thanked a sharp-eyed nurse who brought him a chair, and sat down casually to flip through it.
"…You're supervising?"
Christina finally pieced it together, rolling her eyes.
Sure, residents could start leading surgeries, but for their first one, a senior attending always tagged along. They wouldn't interfere—usually just reading a magazine or doing a crossword in the corner, staying out of the way. But if the resident couldn't handle it, they'd step in to ensure the patient's safety.
Of course, if that happened, the resident wouldn't get another shot at leading for a long, long time.
"Problem?" Adam smirked. "You take the lead, I'll supervise. We're both number one."
"Pfft!"
A surgical nurse couldn't hold back a laugh.
"No problem," Christina said, shaking her head helplessly.
Her excitement and bravado faded a bit.
True enough—she was number one. Adam was too. But even among firsts, the gap between them was massive.
Usually, the attending supervising a resident's first surgery was one of the best, ready to clean up any mess. At the medical center, there wasn't a clear "best" attending—but the best doctor? Who else but Adam? Especially when it came to handling chaos and pulling off clutch saves—he was a legend.
She should've seen it coming.
One leading, one supervising, both number one.
No issues there!
"Let's get started."
Christina signaled the anesthesiologist to begin, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them with calm focus. "Scalpel!"
---
Second-Floor Observation Room
Liz, who'd heard the news, insisted on coming to watch. Lexie had no choice but to wheel her in.
"She's holding the scalpel!"
The second they entered, Liz couldn't help but gasp. "Christina's standing at the lead spot, holding the scalpel!"
"Yeah," Lexie said, glancing over with a hint of envy. "She's leading a surgery."
Technically, interns were residents too—fully graduated from med school with MDs, training at a hospital for a few years. But only a resident who stood at the lead spot, scalpel in hand, running a surgery, could confidently tell the world, "I'm a doctor!" Otherwise, they'd get hit with something like George did from his brothers: "You're a doctor? What surgeries have you done? What? Assisted other doctors? That's just a doctor's assistant, not a real doctor!"
"She's already leading a surgery…"
Liz watched Christina in the OR, confidently wielding the scalpel, and muttered to herself, repeating it like a mantra.
The reality hit her hard.
She used to mock Christina as an emotionless surgery robot. Now, that "robot" was leading a surgery, cutting with precision, glowing with professional confidence and a touch of humanity—especially with her upcoming wedding adding to her shine.
And Liz, who'd always prided herself on understanding truth, goodness, and beauty, chasing her ideals—what did she have to show for it?
(End of Chapter)