Genesis Read Online Free PDF

that she had gone back to Grant County, her home, to tend to children
in rural areas. She didn't tell Delia about Jeffrey or why she
moved back to Atlanta or why she was working at Grady when she
could open her own practice and have some semblance of a normal
life. Sara had just shrugged, saying, "I ended up back here," and Delia
had looked at her with both disappointment and vindication; both
emotions conjured by the fact that Sara had been ahead of Delia their
entire time at Emory.
    Sara tucked her hands into her pockets, pulling her thin coat
closed to fight the chill. She felt the letter against the back of her
hand as she walked past the loading dock. She had volunteered to
cover an extra shift that morning, working straight through for
nearly sixteen hours so that she could have all of tomorrow off.
Exhaustion hit her just as the night air did, and she stood with her
hands fisted in her pockets, relishing the relatively clean air in her
lungs. She caught the scent of rain under the smell of car exhaust and
whatever was coming off the Dumpster. Maybe she would sleep
tonight. She always slept better when it rained.
    She looked down at the cars on the interstate. Rush hour was at its
tail end—men and women going home to their families, their lives.
Sara was standing at what was called the Grady Curve, an arc in the
highway that traffic reporters used as a landmark when reporting
trouble on the downtown connector. All the taillights were bright
red tonight as a tow truck pulled a stalled SUV from the left-hand
shoulder. Police cruisers blocked the scene, blue lights spinning, casting
their eerie light into the darkness. They reminded her of the
night Jeffrey had died—the police swarming, the state taking over,
the scene combed through by dozens of men in their white suits and
booties.
    "Sara?"
    She turned around. Mary stood with the door open, waving her
back into the building. "Hurry!"
    Sara jogged toward the door, Mary calling out stats as she got
closer. "Single car MVA with pedestrian on foot. Kraukauer took
the driver and passenger, possible MI on the driver. You've got the
woman who was hit by the car. Open frac on right arm and leg,
L-O-C at the scene. Possible sexual assault and torture. Bystander
happened to be an EMT. He did what he could, but it's bad."
    Sara was sure she'd misunderstood. "She was raped and hit by a
car?"
    Mary didn't explain. Her hand was like a vise on Sara's arm as they
jogged down the hallway. The door was open to the emergency
triage room. Sara saw the gurney, three medics surrounding the patient.
Everyone in the room was a man, including Will Trent, who
was leaning over the woman, trying to question her.
    "Can you tell me your name?" he asked.
    Sara stopped short at the foot of the bed, Mary's hand still on her
arm. The patient was lying curled on her side in a fetal position.
Surgical tape held her tightly to the frame of the stretcher, pneumatic
splints binding her right arm and leg. She was awake, her teeth
chattering, murmuring unintelligibly. A folded jacket was under her
head, a cervical collar keeping her neck in line. The side of her face
was caked in dirt and blood; electrical tape hung from her cheek,
sticking to her dark hair. Her mouth was open, lips cut and bleeding.
The sheet they had covered her with was pulled down and the side of
her breast gaped open in a wound so deep that bright yellow fat was
showing.
    "Ma'am?" Will asked. "Are you aware of your condition?"
    "Move away," Sara ordered, pushing him back harder than she intended.
He flailed, momentarily losing his balance. Sara did not care.
She had seen the small digital recorder he had in his hand and did not
like what he was doing.
    Sara put on a pair of gloves as she knelt down, telling the woman,
"I'm Dr. Linton. You're at Grady Hospital. We're going to take care
of you."
    "Help . . . help . . . help . . ." the woman chanted, her body shivering
so hard the metal