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At 6:18 a.m., Pittsburgh was just beginning to wake up.
The gray sky promised rain, and the streets were still quiet. Inside Trinity Santos’s small apartment, the silence ended abruptly.
“So that’s your solution?” Yolanda García asked, crossing her arms.
Santos grabbed her keys from the counter without looking at her.
“My solution is getting to work without continuing this argument.”
“We’re not talking about a clinical case, Santos.”
“I know.”
“Then look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Santos looked up for a few seconds.
“If I do, we’re just going to keep fighting for another twenty minutes.”
García let out a frustrated sigh.
The argument had started over something ridiculously small. A canceled dinner because of a schedule change, several unanswered messages, and the fact that Santos, as always, preferred to bottle everything up instead of admitting that something was bothering her.
“You’ve been carrying everything by yourself for weeks.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Are you done?”
That answer finally shattered Yolanda’s patience.
“Do whatever you want.”
Santos gave a slight nod.
“That’s exactly what I was planning to do.”
She picked up her backpack and walked out of the apartment without saying goodbye.
The door slammed shut.
Yolanda stood there motionless for a few seconds.
She wanted to run after her.
She wanted to stop her.
She wanted to hug her.
But pride won that battle.
“She just needs time to cool off…” she murmured to herself.
She had no idea that less than five minutes later she would receive the worst news of her life.
⸻
Santos walked several blocks toward the hospital.
She had her earbuds in, even though she wasn’t listening to anything.
The argument kept replaying in her head.
“No, you’re not.”
Of course she wasn’t fine.
She barely slept.
She ate only when she remembered.
She had accumulated far too many shifts.
And even so, admitting it felt impossible.
She waited for the traffic light.
A light drizzle began to fall.
When the light changed, she stepped into the crosswalk.
Then it happened.
The driver of an SUV turned too quickly while looking somewhere else.
The impact was brutal.
Brakes screeched.
Santos’s body was thrown several yards before crashing onto the pavement.
Everything went silent.
⸻
“Call 911!”
“Don’t move her!”
“She’s breathing!”
Several people ran toward her.
Santos barely managed to open her eyes.
Everything was spinning.
She felt intense pain in her ribs, shoulder, and left leg.
She tried to sit up.
“No…”
A woman gently supported her head.
“Don’t move.”
Santos grimaced.
“I’m… fine…”
“No, you’re not.”
She let out a small laugh that quickly turned into a cough.
“I’ve already heard that today…”
The paramedics arrived only minutes later.
“Female, approximately twenty-five years old.”
“Pedestrian struck.”
“Conscious.”
“Complaining of chest pain.”
“Possible clavicle fracture.”
“Multiple abrasions.”
As they immobilized her, one of them found her ID badge.
He raised an eyebrow.
“You work at The Pitt?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, you’re definitely not walking into work today.”
Santos smiled weakly.
“Very observant.”
⸻
At 6:47 a.m., the ambulance pulled into the Emergency Department.
The doors opened.
Dana Evans was the first to receive the patient.
“What have we got?”
“Pedestrian struck.”
“Stable.”
“Conscious.”
“Likely clavicle fracture and rib injuries.”
Dana looked at the bloodied face on the stretcher.
She froze for half a second.
“…Santos.”
Everyone looked up.
Cassie McKay stopped typing.
Samira Mohan frowned.
Perlah’s eyes widened.
Princess abandoned the medication cart.
Even Robby stepped out of one of the trauma bays.
For a brief moment, no one said a word.
Seeing Santos arriving on a stretcher was something none of them were used to.
She was always the one receiving patients.
Never the one arriving as one.
“Are you all just going to stare at me, or is someone planning to take me off this backboard?” she asked with a crooked smile.
The tension eased, if only a little.
“She’s still making jokes,” Cassie muttered.
“That’s a good sign.”
Robby stepped closer.
“Report.”
The paramedics began speaking while Dana organized the team.
Everything happened quickly.
Monitor.
Oxygen.
IV lines.
X-rays.
Blood work.
Ultrasound.
Santos tried to sit up.
Dana gently pushed her back down.
“Stay still.”
“I’m working.”
“No.”
“Just a little.”
“No.”
“You’re awfully bossy.”
Dana shook her head.
“Today you’re the patient.”
⸻
At 7:15 a.m., Yolanda was preparing for a procedure when someone entered the operating room.
It was Emery Walsh.
“García.”
“What is it?”
Walsh hesitated.
That alone was enough to make Yolanda’s stomach drop.
“What happened?”
“They need a surgical consult in the ED.”
“I’ll come as soon as I finish.”
Walsh took a deep breath.
“The consult is for Santos.”
The world seemed to stop.
“What?”
“She was in an accident.”
Yolanda felt her legs nearly give out.
“Is she…?”
“She’s conscious.”
That was all she needed to hear before running out.
She didn’t even remember taking off her gloves until she reached the hallway.
⸻
When she entered the Emergency Department, she found Santos lying on a stretcher.
Her arm was immobilized.
Bandages covered several wounds.
Scrapes marked her face.
A cut sat above her eyebrow.
And even so…
She was still smiling.
“Hey.”
Yolanda rushed to her side.
“What the hell happened?”
“A truck.”
“Don’t joke.”
“I wasn’t.”
Relief and anger crashed together inside Yolanda.
“You’re impossible.”
Santos noticed the tears shining in her eyes.
She had never seen Yolanda like that before.
“I’m okay.”
Yolanda shook her head.
“Don’t ever say that again.”
For the first time that morning, Santos didn’t answer.
She simply reached for Yolanda’s hand.
“I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t clear whether she meant the accident…
Or the argument.
Maybe both.
⸻
The test results started coming back.
Clavicle fracture.
Two cracked ribs.
Significant bruising.
Multiple contusions.
Nothing life-threatening.
When Robby finished reviewing everything, he finally let out the breath he’d been holding.
“You’re going to need to rest.”
Santos made a face.
“That’s an ugly word.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.”
“I figured.”
“One week off.”
“No.”
“Two.”
“Definitely not.”
Robby raised an eyebrow.
“Three.”
“That’s an abuse of authority.”
“Four if you keep arguing.”
Everyone nearby laughed softly.
Even Dana smiled.
⸻
Dennis arrived nearly an hour later.
He had received only one short message.
“Santos is in the ED.”
Nothing else.
He walked in so fast he nearly collided with another stretcher.
The moment he saw her, he let out a relieved breath.
“You look terrible.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“I mean it affectionately.”
“How thoughtful.”
Dennis stayed silent for a few seconds.
Then he adjusted the blanket that had slipped off her shoulder.
“You scared us.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No.”
The answer was so serious that Santos stopped joking.
She knew Dennis wasn’t someone who showed emotion easily.
Seeing him so quiet said more than any speech ever could.
“I’m sorry.”
He simply nodded.
“Don’t do it again.”
“It wasn’t exactly in my plans.”
⸻
Perlah showed up with a glass of water.
Princess adjusted another pillow.
Emma Nolan stopped by to check her vital signs.
Cassie came back several times with one excuse after another.
Samira walked in claiming she was “just passing by,” though everyone knew that wasn’t true.
Even Mateo, who hadn’t started his shift yet, came by later after hearing what had happened.
Each of them found a reason to spend a few minutes with her.
Santos started feeling uncomfortable.
“Why is everyone coming in here?”
Princess smiled.
“Because we want to know how you’re doing.”
“That’s weird.”
Perlah shook her head.
“No, it isn’t.”
Santos lowered her eyes.
She had never been very good at accepting other people’s care.
It had always been easier to take care of everyone else.
Never herself.
⸻
Hours later, while waiting to be discharged, the observation unit was surprisingly quiet.
Yolanda was still sitting beside her.
She hadn’t let go of Santos’s hand for nearly an hour.
Santos glanced sideways at her.
“Are you still mad?”
“Yes.”
“A lot?”
“Very.”
“Then… why are you taking care of me?”
Yolanda looked at her as though the question made no sense.
“Because I love you.”
Silence filled the room.
“That doesn’t change just because we argued.”
Santos felt a lump form in her throat.
“I thought…”
“Don’t think so much.”
Yolanda pulled her chair a little closer.
“Couples argue.”
“I know.”
“But I almost lost you.”
Those four words hit harder than any medication ever could.
Santos lowered her head.
“I’m sorry.”
Yolanda gently brushed the uninjured side of her face.
“So am I.”
“I was too stubborn.”
“So was I.”
“I should have listened to you.”
“And I should have followed you when you walked out.”
The two remained silent.
Then Yolanda smiled faintly.
“I guess you won the argument.”
Santos grimaced.
“I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“I got hit by a truck.”
They both laughed.
A tired laugh.
But a genuine one.
⸻
By late afternoon, Santos was discharged.
Robby reviewed the instructions one last time.
“Rest.”
“I’ll try.”
“No.
You’re going to do it.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Dana handed over the discharge paperwork.
“No lifting anything heavy.”
“Understood.”
Cassie pointed at the sling.
“Don’t take it off.”
Samira added,
“And answer your messages.”
Perlah smiled.
“Or we’ll come get you.”
Princess nodded.
“Both of us.”
Santos raised her hands as much as she could.
“Okay, okay. I get it.”
Dennis appeared carrying a small bag.
“I brought you clean clothes.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t get emotional.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
The two exchanged a teasing glance that, to anyone who knew them, meant far more than either of them would ever admit.
⸻
Yolanda drove them back to the apartment.
The entire ride, Santos stared silently out the window.
When they arrived, Yolanda opened the door before Santos could even try to get out by herself.
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“Then…”
“Let me help you.”
This time, Santos didn’t argue.
They walked inside slowly.
The apartment looked exactly the same as it had that morning.
Only now, the atmosphere was completely different.
Yolanda set the keys on the table.
Then she carefully helped Santos sit down on the couch.
She went into the kitchen.
Prepared something simple to eat.
Returned with a glass of water and her medication.
“Open.”
“You’re being awfully bossy.”
“Open.”
Santos obeyed.
After taking the pills, they sat quietly for a while.
Yolanda sat beside her.
Very carefully, she rested her head against Santos’s uninjured shoulder.
“Promise me something.”
“What?”
“The next time you’re not okay… talk to me.”
Santos took a deep breath.
“I’ll try.”
“No.
Promise me.”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds.
“I promise.”
Yolanda smiled.
“Good.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Promise me that even if we argue, you won’t let pride make decisions for us.”
Yolanda took her hand again.
“I promise.”
Rain began tapping gently against the windows.
The sound was peaceful.
For the first time all day, neither of them felt the need to say anything else.
They had learned something important.
The accident had left bruises, a broken clavicle, and aching ribs.
But it had also torn down an invisible wall.
Santos realized that allowing other people to take care of her wasn’t a sign of weakness.
It was a sign of trust.
And everyone at The Pitt—from Robby and Dana to Cassie, Samira, Perlah, Princess, Dennis, Emma, and the rest of the team—had shown her that without needing grand speeches.
Because even though they spent most of their time joking, arguing, and throwing sarcastic comments at each other through endless shifts, when one of their own went down, no one faced it alone.
And that night, as Yolanda carefully tucked a blanket around Santos before she fell asleep on the couch, she realized that she had never truly been alone.
She had a team waiting for her at the hospital.
She had a brother she had chosen, even if he’d never admit it.
And she had the woman who loved her, even on the hardest days.
Santos opened one eye.
“García…”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for not giving up on me.”
Yolanda smiled warmly.
“It was never part of the plan.”
Santos closed her eyes.
Outside, the rain continued to fall over Pittsburgh.
But inside the small apartment, for the first time since that morning, everything was finally calm.