Chapter 3 — Fractured Patience

Third Person

The cacophony of the Central Crossway Interchange was relentless: honking horns, the drone of frustrated voices, the distant wail of a baby crying somewhere a few cars back. The oppressive heat magnified every sound, every smell, every frayed nerve. Tobias Lane stood by the open rear doors of his ambulance, tugging at the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves, the fabric sticking to his skin. His hazel eyes scanned the gridlock stretching endlessly in both directions, his jaw tightening with each passing second.

He hated waiting. Every instinct screamed at him to do something, to fix something, to be useful. Instead, he was stranded, his carefully calculated sense of control unraveling with the jam’s unyielding stillness. His hands flexed at his sides, briefly curling into fists before he forced them to relax. As he stared at the stalled cars, his mind buzzed with contingency plans, each one crushed by the oppressive standstill.

Zadie Mercer, sitting cross-legged on the asphalt with the stray dog sprawled across her lap, glanced up at him. “You’re pacing,” she observed, her voice light but pointed. “Very dramatic. Planning to wear a trench into the pavement?”

Tobias made an effort to calm his expression and shot her a look. “I’m thinking.”

“Thinking looks a lot like stewing,” Zadie said as she scratched behind the dog’s ears. The wiry animal let out a low, contented sound, its bony frame visibly more at ease now. “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”

“Too late for that,” Tobias muttered, a faint touch of self-deprecation in his tone. He sighed, dragging a hand through his already mussed brown hair, leaving it further disheveled. “I should’ve taken the side streets.”

“Hindsight’s a cruel friend,” Zadie said with a shrug. “But hey, if you hadn’t gotten stuck here, you wouldn’t have met Captain Skedaddle. Silver linings.”

Tobias huffed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. His gaze flickered to the dog, then back to the sea of idling vehicles. “You’re good at finding silver linings.”

“It’s a gift,” she said, grinning.

The weight of his restlessness pressed heavier, but before Tobias could respond, a sharp voice cut through the clamor. “Excuse me? Is there—is there someone who can help?”

Both their heads turned toward the sound. A woman stood a few cars down, her hands fluttering nervously over her swollen belly. She was heavily pregnant, her face pale and strained, her dark hair pulled into a braid that stuck to her damp neck. Her eyes darted between the stopped cars and the passengers milling about, panic evident in her shallow breaths and trembling hands. A sheen of sweat glistened on her brow, and her fingers pressed against her belly as if trying to ground herself against the tide of chaos around her.

Zadie was on her feet in an instant, the dog momentarily forgotten. “Hey, it’s okay,” she called, her voice gentle but firm as she approached. “I’m Zadie. What’s going on?”

Tobias followed a step behind, the knot in his stomach tightening. He saw the woman’s breathing quicken, each inhale shallow and sharp, her shoulders rising and falling in uneven jerks. As he got closer, he noticed her hands trembling slightly, one of them clutching a small pastel baby blanket peeking out of her bag.

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “It feels tight. And the heat, I can’t… I think I might be dehydrated.”

“What’s your name?” Tobias asked, his tone steady, professional. His calmness seemed to anchor her slightly; she met his gaze, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

“Bella,” she managed. “Bella Ramirez.”

“Okay, Bella,” Tobias said, his voice softening. “Let’s get you sitting down and take a look, all right? You’re in good hands.”

Zadie glanced at him, a flicker of admiration crossing her face at the way he handled the situation. Together, they guided Bella to the shaded side of the road, where Tobias knelt to check her pulse with practiced efficiency. He pulled the sleek PulseScope 3000 from his bag, its holographic display lighting up as he scanned her vitals. The device whirred softly, and a series of glowing numbers floated above its screen, rendering a faintly glowing 3D image of Bella’s vitals.

“Your heart rate’s elevated, but not dangerously,” he reassured her. “Dehydration’s likely making things worse. How far along are you?”

“Thirty-seven weeks,” Bella said, her voice trembling. “This is my first. I—I don’t know if this is normal.”

“It’s okay,” Zadie said, crouching beside her and taking one of Bella’s hands in her own. She gave it a gentle squeeze, her touch warm. “You’re not alone. We’ve got you.”

Bella’s shoulders slumped slightly, her breathing slowing as she clung to Zadie’s reassuring presence. Zadie glanced down at the crane feather pendant around her neck as it swayed with her movements, the faint tarnish catching the light. Her hand tightened slightly on Bella’s, her tone softening further. “You’re doing great, Bella. It’s scary, I know, but you’re tough—tougher than you feel right now.”

For a moment, Bella’s gaze dropped to the blanket poking out from her bag. Her voice wavered. “I just… I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this. What if I screw it up?”

“You won’t,” Zadie said firmly, her green eyes steady. “You care enough to be worried, and that’s already a good start. Trust me, it’s okay to feel scared. Strength doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.”

The momentary calm was shattered by the sharp bark of angry voices—a man shouting, his words cutting through the already tense atmosphere.

“I don’t have time for this,” Tobias muttered, his jaw tightening as he glanced toward the commotion. Two men stood toe-to-toe near one of the stalled cars, their gestures sharp and aggressive. The older man’s face burned red with anger as he waved toward the younger man, who held a skateboard.

Zadie followed his gaze and straightened, her expression sharpening with resolve. “I’ve got this,” she said quickly. “You stay with Bella. She needs you.”

“Zadie—” Tobias started, but she was already moving, her petite frame weaving between the cars with surprising authority. He exhaled sharply, the instinct to intervene gnawing at him, but he forced himself to stay focused on Bella. He glanced at the PulseScope again, quietly checking its battery icon. Half full. For now.

When Zadie reached the two men, she held up her hands, palms out. “Hey, guys,” she said brightly, her voice cutting through the tension like a warm breeze. “What’s going on here?”

“This kid,” the older man spat, gesturing at the teenager, “scratched my car with his stupid skateboard!”

“It was an accident!” the younger man shot back, his voice defensive. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Okay, okay,” Zadie interrupted, stepping between them before the argument could spark further. Her tone shifted—still light, but with an edge of authority. “Deep breaths, everyone. It’s hot, we’re stuck, and nobody’s having a good day. Let’s not make it worse, yeah?”

The older man huffed, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. “This little punk needs to learn respect.”

“And I’m sure he will,” Zadie said, her tone calm but firm. “Right now, how about we all focus on not melting into puddles on the concrete? Apologies go a long way.”

The boy hesitated, his jaw tightening with pride. Finally, he muttered, “Sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Zadie turned to the older man, her green eyes steady but kind. “And I’m sure you’ve had an accident or two in your life, right? Let’s chalk it up to bad luck and move forward.”

The man grumbled something unintelligible but deflated slightly, his anger losing steam. Zadie clapped her hands together, the sound sharp but cheerful. “Great. We’re all friends now. Let’s keep it that way.”

As she made her way back to Bella and Tobias, a faint smile tugged at her lips. She dropped to the ground beside Bella, brushing a loose strand of auburn hair out of her face. “Crisis averted,” she said breezily.

Tobias shook his head, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and reluctant approval. “You have a knack for that.”

“Years of calming otters,” she quipped, winking. Then, more seriously, she turned back to Bella. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Bella admitted, her voice steadier now. Her hands rested protectively over her belly, her expression softening. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Tobias said simply, his hazel eyes meeting Bella’s with quiet reassurance.

Jonah West appeared then, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he approached with his notebook tucked under one arm. He paused a few feet away, his sharp gaze taking in the trio—Bella, calmer now; Zadie, her hand still on Bella’s; and Tobias, the PulseScope resting in his hands.

“Quite the show,” Jonah remarked, his tone mild as ever. “You two certainly have a way of handling chaos.”

Zadie grinned. “We aim to please.”

Jonah’s gaze flicked between them, his expression thoughtful. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it,” he mused, “how moments like these test us? Chaos has a way of revealing who we are—and what we could be.” He opened his notebook briefly, the faint scent of pressed leaves wafting into the air as he jotted something down.

Tobias arched an eyebrow at him, skepticism flickering across his face. “You’ve got a lot of theories about people, don’t you?”

Jonah chuckled softly, his tone serene. “Plenty of time to observe. And I’d wager you both have more to learn from each other than you realize.” He tucked the notebook under his arm and returned to his car.

Zadie watched him go, a faint crease of curiosity on her brow. “You think he’s right?”

Tobias didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze drifted to Bella, now sipping water Zadie had handed her. Then to the stray dog, which had ambled closer and nudged Bella’s hand before flopping onto the ground protectively. Finally, his eyes found Zadie’s, and for a moment, the guarded walls around him seemed to crack just slightly.

“Maybe,” he said quietly.

The gridlock stretched on, but for now, in this small pocket of shared humanity, the weight of it all seemed just a little lighter.