Book #1 of the Santos series
Ana Wright is an incredible doctor; a surgeon, who spent her life helping people, making her one of the most famous surgeons in Vancouver. But after an incident at the hospital, she was working at, she decided to quit an...
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It is on days like these that I regret quitting my job at the hospital, but then again, I wasn't going to be able to continue my practice there—not only because I was not allowed, but also because I couldn't.
A man sits in front of me with the guard standing behind him, making sure he doesn't do anything. His name is George and I hate his guts. He is so rude and disrespectful. The first time he saw me, he couldn't but comment on my body.
Pervert.
I give him the monthly shot he takes and sends him on his way. George is one of the reasons I hate coming here, but when I look back at all the patients I befriended, I feel happy and grateful.
I never had a family that really supported me. My parents only care about their image and money, while my brother, Andrew, and my sister, Sarah, live their own lives just like I am doing. I don't really blame them for not reaching out to me and supporting my decision to work at the prison because I know what it's like to have parents like ours.
I walk back to my desk when another guard walks in. "Dr. Wright, I have prisoner number 581. He says he's in pain."
"Okay, send him in quickly," I reply with furrowed eyebrows.
Prisoner number 581 is Manuel Santos. He is one of the people that I befriended in prison. I am close to him enough to know that he is a good person. I still don't know what he did and I never asked him. What could he have done worst than my crime that no one knew about?
The guard enters again, but this time, with Mr. Santos.
"You can leave," I tell the guard.
"Ma'am, I am not allowed to leave you alone with him," the guard replies, making my blood boil.
"I think you're new here, this is my office and I decide who stays and who leaves," I say harshly, glaring at him.
He hesitantly nods and leaves the room.
"That was a little harsh," Manuel says.
"Are you okay, Mr. Wright?" I ask, ignoring his comment.
"Oh, I am fine, darling, and how many times will I have to tell you to call me dad or uncle? You're my segunda hija."
"Sorry, dad," I shyly say.
My heart warms at what he said. Not even my own father was that gentle with me.
"So, nothing's hurting you?"
"No."
"Then why you're here, if you don't mind me asking?" I ask, sitting beside him on the couch.
He looks intently at me and sighs as if he's contemplating whether to tell me or not. I have never seen this look on his face before and I feel that it isn't something that I am going to like.
