Free Mother's Promise by Anna Schmidt

the children’s wing. “I hope you don’t get queasy at the sight of blood,” he added grimly as he turned down a hallway then strode through a set of double doors that marked the entrance to the emergency room for the children’s wing.

Chapter 5
    B en took one look at the boy’s arm and knew it was going to take a miracle to save it. At least the arm had not been ripped entirely off. Shark attacks were extremely rare, but when one did strike, the outcome usually always favored the shark. In this case the amazing thing was that the kid still had his arm. Ben was grateful for the team of nurses and specialists surrounding him as he worked to get the boy stabilized so that they could move him on to surgery as soon as possible. Mercifully the kid was pretty much out of it and probably wouldn’t remember all the blood loss and pain he was suffering.
    A man and woman stood in the doorway as if frozen into a state of disbelief.
The parents.
It was hard to offer reassurance with the better part of his face covered by a surgical mask, but Ben felt the need to make an attempt. He glanced over at the couple, and the father met his look and nodded. Then the man murmured something to his wife. Her wails of panic and fear settled into shuddering sobs.
    â€œDid somebody call for Paul Cox?” he asked the nurse working next to him.
    â€œOn his way.”
    Ben turned his attention back to his work. He gathered information about vital signs and loss of blood even as he issued orders for what would be needed in surgery. When his colleague and the best orthopedic surgeon in southwest Florida, Jess Wilson, came through the double doors and scanned the chart an aide held for him, Ben let out a breath of relief.
    The pneumatic doors swung closed behind Jess but not before Ben saw three other teens still wet, wearing their T-shirts and surfing shorts. They were sitting on the edge of a row of plastic chairs, their hands dangling helplessly between their knees, their gangly bodies seeming too large for the chairs.
    â€œHow could this happen?” the mother moaned, drawing Ben’s attention back to the job of prepping the kid for surgery. “He was supposed to be at Todd’s house,” she added, her voice dropping until her tone was that of a lost little girl.
    It didn’t take much to put the pieces together, Ben thought as he and Jess worked together. Those boys—high school seniors given the age of the kid on the table—had decided to have one last fling before school started in a couple of days. The high, hot west wind that had been building all night would have been all anyone who loved surfing needed to know that the wave action off Lido Key was going to be great. Ben could almost visualize the four of them heading straight for the beach.
    â€œName?” he murmured to the ER nurse working next to him and nodding toward the boy.
    â€œDavid Olson,” she replied. “Paperwork is done,” she added with a glance toward a young woman holding a clipboard out to the father.
    Ben pulled down his mask and peeled off his gloves as he approached the parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Olson?”
    They lifted dazed glances before Ben went on, “We’re going to take David up to surgery,” he said even as the medical team unlocked the wheels on the gurney and started rolling it down the corridor. “As soon as there’s any news someone will be down to talk with you, okay?”
    He really didn’t expect an answer. Someone else would take charge of the parents and friends until Paul got there, lead them to the waiting room, offer them coffee, and volunteer to call other family for them. So when Mr. Olson clasped his shoulder, Ben wasn’t sure how to react.
    â€œDoc? Can you save his arm?” Olson was a large man, overweight in the way of a former athlete who hadn’t kept up with his regimen of exercise. His eyes were full of tears he was fighting to