“Vein”, Carmen said, her voice flat, her eyes focused but almost expressionless.

“Angelica started walking…”, Bette muttered, her forehead a few inches away from Carmen’s, her hands shoved deep into the man’s opened chest, “…Three unassisted steps”.

“Get it on video?”, Carmen asked, showing her hand, palm up.

Bette passed her a scalpel.

“I wasn’t even there”.

“You failed as a mother already”, Jenny joked, “How does it feel?”.

“Retrograde on”, Carmen stated, ignoring them, “Come down to half flow, give me a little volume”.

“Down to half flow, here’s your volume”, Mark replied immediately,

Carmen looked up, her eyes shifting from Bette, to Mark, to Jenny.

“Ready to come off?”.

“Ready”, Jenny nodded.

“Let’s come off”, Carmen ordered.

“We’re coming down”, Bette murmured, “We’re clamped and off bypass”.

Carmen was about to breathe deeply when she heard Mark’s voice.

“Oh, shit”, he exclaimed.

“What are you missing?”, Carmen asked, placing her hands on her hips.

He looked guilty.

“Sponge”.

“Bummer”, Jenny commented and they all doubled over, examining the floor under the operating table. The rhythmical beep-beep-beep of the patient’s heart was all they heard.

“Got it!”, Mark exclaimed, standing up and holding a blood-stained sponge into his hand.

Carmen sighed in relief.

“Alright… Thank you, everybody…”.

“She’s getting good, huh?”, Mark whispered into Jenny’s ear, tilting his head in Carmen’s direction.

Jenny nodded.

“Yeah, she’s getting that attitude, too”.

“Getting an attitude?”, Mark frowned.

Then something happened.

The intermittent beep-beep-beep turned into a dangerous, continual beeeeeeep and Carmen’s dark eyes widened.

“Shit! V-tac!”.

“Christ! Paddles!”, Bette echoed.

“Kill the music!”, Mark exclaimed nervously, his eyes darting to Jenny.

Jenny obeyed immediately, her eyes enormous, and the room went silent.

“Charge”, Carmen ordered, her gestures frantic, her voice still calm.

“Charging”, Bette replied.

Nothing happened.

Bette looked up.

“Dr. Morales…”, she murmured, her voice on the verge. It was unusual, for her, to call Carmen using her surname and title. Unusual, and spooky.

“Clear!”, Carmen exclaimed.

“No pressure”, Mark stated.

“You gave him lidocaine?”, Bette’s eyes looked at him.

“Lidocaine gone in”, he confirmed.

“Buzz him again”, Carmen said.

And they buzzed him. But he seemed to be nowhere near home.

“Still nothing”, Jenny murmured.

“Start compression”, Carmen mumbled through gritted teeth, pressing the man’s chest with open palms.