Mercer stood.
“I’ve seen enough.”
The physician looked confused.
“Sir?”
“This evaluation is no longer about whether Bennett is fit for duty.”
He looked at me.
“It’s about what we owe her.”
I shook my head.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Yes, we do.”
“No, sir.”
He stepped closer.
“You spent eleven years taking care of everyone else.”
He pointed toward the medical room.
“Now someone is going to take care of you.”
I almost laughed.
“That sounds terrifying.”
The chief grinned.
“She’s always been terrible at being the patient.”
Mercer smiled.
“I’ve heard.”
Then he became serious.
“Effective immediately, your evaluation is classified.”
My eyebrows rose.
“And?”
“You are being transferred.”
“To where?”
He looked at the physician.
“Rehabilitation command.”
I stared at him.
“Sir, I’m not asking for retirement.”
“I didn’t say retirement.”
“Then what?”
“You’re going to train corpsmen.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“You have eleven years of experience that cannot be replaced by a textbook.”
He paused.
“You’re going to teach them what happens after the bullets start flying.”
The chief smiled.
“About time.”
Part 8 — The First Class
Six months later, I stood in front of a classroom.
Twenty-four young corpsmen sat facing me.
Some were nervous.
Some were confident.
One looked like he had never seen blood outside a training manual.
I looked at them.
“I’m going to tell you something your instructors may not.”
They leaned forward.
“Your job isn’t to be fearless.”
Silence.
“Your job is to function while you’re afraid.”
I walked toward the medical table.
“Fear tells you where the danger is.”
I picked up a medical kit.
“Training tells you what to do anyway.”
Then I looked at the young corpsman in the front row.
“What is your first priority?”
“Patient?”
I shook my head.
“Scene safety.”
He nodded.
“Correct.”
Another raised her hand.
“What’s the second?”
“Your patient.”
“And third?”
“Yourself?”
I smiled.
“Good.”
Then I paused.
“Remember that third one.”
I touched the scar on my shoulder.
“Because ignoring it can cost you everything.”
The room became silent.
For the first time, I wasn’t hiding my scars.
I was using them to teach.
Part 9 — The Last Question
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