4338.207 · July 26, 2018 AD
The Tightrope Between Compassion and Truth
Jamie holds the tray while Glenda stitches his son's throat closed—every needle pierce a test of what he can witness without breaking. She's brilliant. The wound closes. And then Joel gasps, convulses, and goes still. Medicine has reached its limits. But a voice in Jamie's mind offers something that sounds like madness—and Glenda must choose between logic and compassion.
Some wounds can't be closed with thread.
Jamie's hands won't stop trembling as he holds the surgical tray, watching Glenda stitch his son's throat with precision born of years he doesn't have. Every pierce of the needle tests the limits of what a father can witness. Every pull of thread is a prayer he can't speak aloud.
For Glenda, this is surgery beyond her scope—a general practitioner performing procedures she was never trained for, on a patient who defies everything medicine understands. The wound closes beautifully. For one moment, there's triumph.
Then Joel gasps. Convulses. Goes terrifyingly still.
"He has no blood for his heart to pump around his body. I'm sorry, Jamie."
But Jamie isn't ready to accept finality. Clivilius whispers in his mind—surrender—and suddenly he's gripping Glenda's arm, insisting they take Joel to the lagoon. It makes no medical sense. There's no logical reason to comply.
But sometimes action is the only medicine left. Not for the body—for the heart. And Glenda chooses compassion over certainty.
