“Mr. Delors...her outlook is a good one.  I just want you to understand that from this point forward, this young lady has a long uphill battle.  But she had a number of things on her side--and for now, I think we should count our blessings and be glad that she’s still alive.”

Dr. Stone eyed him when she said...

“Now...as for you...according to the nurses, you haven’t left this building from the moment she arrive.”

Lucien nervously laughed when he said...

“I didn’t want to chance leaving, and possibly missing a report.  I thought that, perhaps the best thing to do would be to remain here until I could see her with my own eyes.”

Lucien directed his gaze on the mystery woman, then he said...

“I don’t even know her name.”  he paused, turning his attention back on the doctor.  “Have the police provided any information?”

“I’m sorry...but I really don’t know.  I’ve been tied up in surgery all day and...well...identification and names...that just isn’t one of my concerns.  But...I can send the nurse down here, if you’d like.  I’m sure by now, someone has to know something concrete about her.”

“Samaritan...”  Lucien mindlessly said the word.

“What did you say...?”

He looked at the doctor then he said...

“She’s a Samaritan.  Or at least...that’s what the medical technicians had said.  I told the police officer on the scene to take a picture of her, and to send it to the Samaritan Conclave for identification purposes.”

Dr. Stone stared at him quizzically because his concern seemed unbalanced--given that her patient was a stranger to him.  On the other hand...she’d always heard nice things about Lucien Delors.

“Well...let’s hope that the police officer took your advice.”

“Yes.”  was all that Lucien had to add to the conversation.  He walked to the center of the room, then he turned, facing the bed.  He loss himself in the possibilities that lie ahead for this nameless woman.

Dr. Stone said...

“I’ll be in my office for an hour or two before I leave for the night.  If you need anything, please, feel free to stop by.”

She waited a moment, giving Lucien time to process what she’d just said.  Lucien remained quiet while he stared at the Samaritan woman.  He pressed his hand in his coat pocket, sensing the feel of fabric that formed the band.  He had to know what the band meant and what was its connection to this woman.  Hours ago, he’d been honest with himself.  He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t attracted to this woman; even though the idea was tasteless and beneath him.  No matter the reason, there was something about this woman that he couldn’t dismiss.  He looked at the chair that held his luggage.  Caesar had fill the bag with a fresh set of clothes, and Lucien still had not taken the time to change out of his white attire.  He closed his eyes, and a myriad of thoughts overtook him.  He didn’t have to look to see that Dr. Stone had left the room, leaving him to contemplate; exactly what?  He just didn’t know.  Lucien couldn’t place words or meaning to express his dilemma.  He only knew that he couldn’t move.  He wanted to remain here by this unknown woman’s side.

He was alone.  No--he thought to himself.  He wasn’t alone.  She was here with him.  Lucien crossed the room until he was standing along the side of her bed.  He placed one hand at the base on the bandage that covered the lower half of her head.  His finger glided a path, tracing the edge of the cloth bandaged, then he dipped lower; tempting his finger with the feel of her flesh.  Heavenly.  This was his thought.  He wanted to remain there--and he would have, but paradise deflated when a voice rose above his joy.

“Take your hand off my sister!”

Lucien unnaturally jerked, pulling his hand away until it angled at his side.  His attention was drawn to the doorway.  He fixed his eyes on a man, and behind him he could see one of the nurses.  Her expression held an apologetic sentiment.  But this man--his face was the definition of vexation.

Lucien took two steps, distancing himself from the bed.  He was prepared to comply, then his brain was overtaken by a protectiveness that he didn’t rightly understand.

Refrained, and respective in nature, he responded...

“I’m sorry...but who are you sir...”

Caleb stepped over the threshold, exerting his familial authority.  He’d come, because his parents and his brother couldn’t and for the first time since being adopted, he didn’t mind not being born into the Sect.

Caleb locked eyes with Lucien when he said...

“I’m her brother and my name is Caleb Zelle.  I understand that you’re responsible for my sister being in a Non-Samaritan Hospital.”

Lucien didn’t hear any gratitude in his voice, so he thought it best not to further irritate this man, because he didn’t seem to be looking for truth.  He wanted to apologize but first, he needed to orient himself.

Lucien angled his head when he said...

“I’m sorry...but you have me at a disadvantage...”

He held out his hand, as he closed the distance, while saying...

“I’m Lucien Delors...and you are....”  He left his sentence hanging, while his hand remained extended in greeting.  He could see by his clothes that this man belonged to the Samaritan Sect...but as far as he knew, they couldn’t enter a Non-Samaritan hospital; yet, here he was.

Caleb locked eyes with Lucien, while trying to recall Samaritan codes, and manners, when dealing with Non-Samaritan’s.  He bit his tongue--suppressing years of anger and animosity.  This man was to blame for the defilement of his sister.

On the inside, Caleb was a spitting boiling pot--but on the outside, he appeared as cool as a block of ice.  He would be polite but he would not bow down to this man.  Caleb did not accept Lucien’s handshake.

As calmly as he could, Caleb spoke using an even-tempered tone.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me when I entered.  You seemed to be preoccupied, touching my unconscious sister.”  he couldn’t let that pass, and he wanted him to know that he’d witnessed his offense.  His expression was flat when he said...

“My name is Caleb Zelle--”  His head rocked in the direction of the hospital bed.  “and that is my sister.  Ona Zelle.”

“Ona...”

Lucien said her name, and the sound was like molasses rolling off his tongue.  He wanted to say her name again, but Caleb hushed him with his disapproval.

“According to the nurses...you are responsible for my sister being here.”  Caleb’s chest expanded defensively when he added...

“Do you know what you’ve done by insisting that she be brought here?”

Lucien spoke up saying...

“She’d been badly injured so I did what had to be done.  She needed the best surgeons...so I told them to bring her here.”

“To a Non-Samaritan facility where her parents, her brother and none of the Samaritan’s from her Sect can come to visit her.”

Lucien stared at him when he said...

“But...you just said that you’re her brother...and you’re here.”

In the past, Caleb had always hated explaining his connection to the Samaritan’s...but in this instance, he didn’t feel his usual shame.  He gave this rich bastard a little education on the world as he knew it.

“That’s right--I am a Samaritan and I am her brother...her adopted brother.”  He paused for affect, giving Lucien time to digest what he’d just said.  Caleb continued.

“I am not a Samaritan by birth; and as such...I am free to ignore the Creed.  I’ve always respected my family and our beliefs--but because of you and your one sightedness, I was left with no other choice.  I’m here--even though my adopted parents begged me not to come.”  It pained him to say this, because the memory still stung.

“I ignored my parent’s pleas...because someone had to come to this Non-Samaritan hospital to check on my sister.”