A Face to Love

dd rustling of paper as patients browsed through periodicals, frantically attempting to distract themselves from the reality of their circumstances. Suzan Turner described the sound as a slow r

e transformed a terrible mess into a masterpiece! He's a perfectionist, however. Some feel it's a little extreme, but given his skill, who can blame him? Suzan's heart rate increased upon hearing his name. Dr. David. The guy with the ability to change her life. The guy who may help her rediscover her identity. But the concept of perfection made her nervous. Does he expect her to be perfect? Will he be disappointed in her? A flood of anxiety swept over her, tightening the knot in her gut. Just then, the receptionist interrupted her thoughts by calling out her name. "Suzan Turner?" Her heart pounded in her throat, and she got up, her legs feeling like jelly under her. As she stepped forward, the earth under her seemed to shake with expectation. This was it. Her anticipation and fear of this moment were mixed. She took a long breath, bracing herself against the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. But before she could take another step, a piercing cry from a fire alarm pierced the air, cutting through the background noise like a knife. Red lights began flashing furiously above, lighting the waiting area in a kaleidoscope of color. The nurses' laughter turned into terror as they hurried for the closest escape. Patients sprang to their feet, with uncertainty and dread spreading like wildfire. Suzan felt her heart sink as mayhem exploded around her. People were yelling, and their voices blended into a dissonant symphony of terror. She froze, her thoughts racing as her body battled the want to leave. The waiting area, once a place of nervous expectation, had become a scene of panic. "Stay calm! Stay calm!" a voice yelled above the clamor, but the words were lost in the noise. Suzan's breathing increased; she felt trapped, her body glued to the place as the mass rushed for the exits. The heat of terror poured over her, leaving her feeling lightheaded. And suddenly, in the middle of the turmoil, she saw him-Dr. Dave, dashing through the door, his face a combination of worry and resolve. He moved with ease that belied the gravity of the moment, his sharp features fixed in a concentrated look. Everything else dissolved as their eyes met for the first time. The pandemonium, the dread, the waiting room full of strangers-it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of them at that moment. He was towering and had an intimidating but enticing aura of assurance. His brown hair was slightly ruffled, and his brow furrowed in anxiety as he searched the room to evaluate the situation. Suzan had a fleeting glimpse of optimism. Could this guy, this physician, look beyond her scars? Could he be the key to her recovery? "Stay where you are!" he said, his voice piercing through the terror with an authoritative tone th