Five minutes ago:
The surgical lights dimmed, and Aiden finally let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The emergency C-section was over. Both the mother and the baby had made it through, but the whole room was buzzing with exhaustion. He glanced at Eric, who was leaning back against the wall, equally wiped out.
"Man, that was rough," Eric muttered, rubbing his eyes. He turned to Aiden, noticing something off. "Wait—what's up with your arm? Why's it all red?"
Aiden blinked, confused at first, then looked down at his arm. His sleeve was stained, not from the patient's blood, but from his own. Maia, who had been packing up instruments, overheard Eric and immediately turned around. Her eyes widened, and in an instant, her face shifted from exhaustion to pure panic.
"That's not the patient's blood," she said sharply, her voice rising. "That's *your* blood. Aiden, your wound's open again!"