Morgan walked out of the autopsy room nauseated. The victim on the slab had been a floater discovered probably seven to eight days past his expiration date. The smell of decomposition had been overpowering. Since his face was unrecognizable, she had the victim's fingers in a bag, cut off and ready to be rolled for prints. She was on her way to the lab to do just that when she noticed a small crowd gathered in her dad's office. Curious, she stood in the hall outside the door observing.
"Morgan!" She turned at the sound of her name. "I have been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes." Sara told her.
"Sorry, I was in an autopsy. You know how cell service is in there. What's going on?" she replied pointing to the congregation in the sheriff's office.
"There's been an accident," Sara continued."Morgan, it's Greg. He and another officer were shot at a scene."
"What?!" Shock coursed through her body. "Where is he? Is he okay? Oh God!Please tell me he's not…" She couldn't finish as panic started setting in. She begin to hyperventilate. Sara steadied her and led her to a nearby bench.
"Calm down. Take a deep breath. He's in surgery now. He was in critical condition, but he's a fighter, Morgan. I know he will be okay." Sara tried to soothe her.
"What if he's not?" Morgan choking on words looked at her, tears streaming. "I don't think I can handle this."
Sara hugged Morgan fighting back tears herself. "I know," she responded.
The sounds of the machines kept the time as Morgan sat by Greg's bedside stroking his hand. The doctor had said he was lucky. The bullet had only been half an inch from blowing out his left lung. In fact, it had miraculously missed any vital organ, and he was expected to make a full recovery. But he still hadn't woken from surgery and Morgan couldn't shake the anxious feeling she had waiting for him to open his eyes.
It had been an hour ago, five hours into Greg's surgery, when Morgan decided she couldn't take it anymore. She had to take her mind off of what was happening to Greg, even if it was only two minutes. She later cursed herself for the added stress when two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test. They had been so careful in covering their tracks to hide their secret relationship but so careless when it came to contraception. Morgan had been carrying the test in her purse for the past two days trying to avoid the inevitable. The timing couldn't have been worse.
"How's our boy doing?" Russell's soft words broke her thoughts. He patted her shoulders and then pulled up a chair next to her by Greg's bed. Morgan let go of Greg's hand and sat up. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear while answering, "The doctor said he should wake up as soon as the anesthesia wears off."
Russell watched her shift nervously in her seat. "He looks good." Russell continued the conversation.
"Yeah, he does." Morgan focused on Greg's calm expression, praying for him to just wake up. Patience was never one of her strengths and today she was almost drained of it.
"Morgan, how are you holding up?" She felt his quizzical eyes on her waiting for her reply. She sensed he probably knew more than he was saying. He was too good at his job not to.
"About as good as anyone else. How about you?" she bluffed, turning away to hide the tears beginning to brim her eyes. Russell opened his mouth to speak when the heart monitor next to the bed started beeping an alert. Both of them looked up at it. "What's going on?" Morgan asked puzzled. Two nurses rushed in.
"I need a crash cart in here," one called out into the hall while checking Greg's vitals.
"What's going on?" Morgan demanded again, urgency in her voice.
"Get them out of here!" another nurse shouted as someone else pushed them out the door.
Watching all the medical personnel frantically huddled around Greg through the room's window broke her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sobbed. Russell enveloped her into a hug, hushing her gently as they endured the uncertainty set in front of them.