Silent Complicity

I watched my attending forge a patient's chart to cover up his mistake and now that patient

is coding in room four. My hands are shaking as I push the crash cart down the hallway

because I'm the only one who knows the truth. The attending is barking orders like

nothing happened while the patient's wife sobs outside. Every compression I do feels like

I'm burying evidence deeper into this woman's chest. The other interns whisper that he's

untouchable, that speaking up means career suicide. But her heart monitor is screaming what

I can't say out loud. The room smells like fear and antiseptic. He catches my eye

across the patient's body and I see the warning there, sharp as a scalpel. Do I become complicit