Wounded Pride

Elias rose from his seat, lifting Callie into his arms effortlessly. Callie yelped in surprise, her cheeks flushing even more. ‘What are you doing?’ she protested, but Elias wasn’t swayed. ‘You’re right—a patient needs to rest, and you’re a patient now,’ Elias stated firmly. ‘You need to rest.’ Callie continued to protest, insisting that she was fine, but Elias refused to let her down. Carrying her one-armed, he reached for the door handle with his free hand. As he pulled open the door of the break room, two figures stumbled into the room. Lemuel was quick to recover and beat a hasty retreat, claiming he had some urgent tasks to attend to. Wendy, on the other hand, picked herself up from the floor, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment for being caught eavesdropping. Elias didn’t let the awkward moment deter him. He turned to Wendy, his tone authoritative. ‘Callie’s sick. Get her a ward.’ Then, as an afterthought, he added, ‘If there’s no empty ward, add a bed in my room.’ Wendy nodded,