Page 1 of Fourteen of a Kind

CHAPTER 1

Ella

“There.” I smiled as I held up the large tumor I extracted, examined it, and dropped it in the basin.

“Would you like me to close, Dr. Kind?” one of the residents asked.

“That’s okay. I’ll do it.” I smiled.

“Good work, Dr. Kind.” I heard over the O.R. intercom.

I looked up at the operating theater and saw my dad standing there with his hands tucked tightly into his pants pockets.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t forget your mother is cooking for us tonight.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be there.” I smiled.

After closing my patient’s head, I tore off my scrub cap and gloves and walked out of the O.R.

“You know, Ella. You really need to let your residents do some of the closings.” My dad hooked his arm around me as we walked down the hall.

“I know, Dad. But this patient is extra special. I wanted to do it myself.”

He kissed the side of my head. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“Bye, Dad.” I smiled.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I sent Landon a text message.

“I’m out of surgery, and I’m starving. Lunch in the cafeteria?”

He didn’t respond, which I thought was odd. Walking down to the ER, I stopped at the nurses’ station.

“Hey, Karla. Have you seen Dr. Piazza?”

“I believe he said he was going to take a nap in the on-call room. He’s pulling a double.”

“I know. Thanks.” I smiled.

I went down to the on-call room, opened the door, and froze when I saw him having sex with another woman.

“Shit. Ella.” Landon jumped up and grabbed his pants. “I thought you were in surgery?”

“You two-timing piece of shit. How could you?” Tears filled my eyes. “And you, Penelope. What the fuck?”

I looked over and saw Landon’s phone sitting on the table. Walking over, I picked it up, threw it on the ground, and smashed it with my foot.

“What the hell, Ella?” he shouted. “I need that.”

“You can have him.” I shook my head at Penelope and ran out of the room.

“Paging, Dr. Ella Kind. Cardiac O.R. Three, STAT!” I heard over the hospital’s intercom.

I ran up the stairs in the stairwell to the fourth floor. When I got to the O.R., a scrub nurse held out a gown, gloves, and a surgical mask for me.

“What’s going on, Uncle Christian?”