“Elena…” she whispered.

Marcus turned his head, fear filling his expression.

I stepped forward, snapping on gloves.

“Good evening,” I said calmly. “Rough night?”

Vanessa grabbed my wrist. “You can’t be part of his treatment.”

I stared at her hand until she let go.

“I’m not his doctor,” I said evenly. “I’m the charge nurse. I make sure everything is properly recorded.”

Her face lost color.

Marcus tried to speak. “Elena… listen…”

I leaned closer, checking his pulse.

“No,” I said softly. “Tonight, you listen.”

Dr. Patel rushed in, and the room erupted into action.

“Penetrating trauma to the left shoulder,” I reported. “Blood pressure dropping. Patient conscious but confused. Possible alcohol involvement.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Marcus muttered weakly.

“Don’t write that,” Vanessa snapped.

Every nurse heard her.

“Everything said here is documented,” I replied.

Minutes later, a police officer arrived. Marcus had crashed his car into a barrier outside a luxury hotel. Vanessa had been with him—wearing a diamond necklace I recognized immediately.

My anniversary necklace.

The one he claimed had been stolen.

When asked for a statement, Vanessa quickly composed herself.

“It was an accident. He was just driving me home from a family dinner.”

“At two in the morning?” I asked.

Her glare sharpened.

Marcus tried to sit up. “Elena, we can talk privately.”

“We could,” I replied. “But honesty has never been your strength.”

Fear flickered across his face.