The doors to the emergency room flew open. A burst of warm air greeted the two EMTs who wheeled Makoto into the hospital. They broke into a jog as they pushed the stretcher toward its destination.

  Ami sat on top of the stretcher and straddled Makoto; her hands pumped furiously as she administered chest compressions. Her glasses perched askew on her nose. Sweat matted her black hair to her forehead and dripped from her face. Stopping to wipe her brow never crossed her mind.

  Each of Ami’s breaths came ragged and labored as she poured all her strength into the compressions. She wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t. This time, there was no room for failure.

  When the EMTs had arrived at Crown Karaoke, they had recognized her as a doctor and allowed her to ride along in the ambulance. Then Makoto’s heart had stopped during transport and Ami had leapt into action. The EMTs had let her take charge.

  Now, as they wheeled Makoto and her into a treatment area, nurses swarmed them. Calm, practiced hands went to work on Makoto. One nurse attempted to take over chest compressions from Ami, but she shook her head.

  “Get me Dr. Kobayashi!” Her voice was hoarse and raw.

  Another nurse connected Makoto to a heart monitor. Ami stopped her furious pumping and allowed the device to get an accurate read on Makoto’s heart. The long, uninterrupted wail told Ami everything she needed to know.

  Makoto’s heart wasn’t beating on its own.

  Ami gazed at her face for a split second. Makoto’s brown hair, tied in her usual ponytail, lay beside her face. Bruises covered her cheeks. Her eyes were closed. She was Ami’s friend, her fellow Guardian, her family.

  She heard the familiar rhythm of Dr. Kobayashi’s footsteps against the floor and felt relief wash over her. He was a great mentor and an even better doctor. If anybody could help Ami save Makoto, it was him.

  His voice rang through the treatment area, calm and clear.

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  “No shockable rhythm. Resume CPR.”

  Ami pressed her palms against Makoto’s chest and resumed compressions. Her arms screamed with fatigue, with pain, but she ignored them. This was not the end. She wouldn’t allow it.

  Next to her, a nurse inserted an IV into Makoto’s arm. Another nurse placed a bag-valve-mask over her mouth and nose. She squeezed the bag in a steady rhythm, providing Makoto with life-giving air.

  For a moment, silence filled the room. The heart monitor continued to beep its long, mournful sound. Tears filled the corners of Ami’s eyes, but she refused to shed them.

  I will win this fight. She’s not going anywhere.

  Dr. Kobayashi’s voice cut through the silence.

  “Push epinephrine via IV. Standard dosage.”

  The nurse complied.

  All the hustle surrounding Ami fell away. She locked her eyes on Makoto and willed her heart to pump again.

  “Makoto, come back. We need you. Motoki needs you. Please…”

  Warmth flooded Ami’s body. For a split second, the pain in her arms disappeared. She felt refreshed, as if she had taken a cool shower on a hot summer day. The light in the hospital seemed brighter. Her hands tingled. She held her breath and pushed .

  She remembered what Berthier had said on the hospital rooftop.

  It is a heavy burden to carry the healing waters.

  Ami gasped, as if coming up for air.

  Beep.

  Ami stopped. The flatline sound gave way to the steady beeping of a heart rhythm.

  “Return of spontaneous circulation. Administer amiodarone to stabilize rhythm.” Understated triumph filled Dr. Kobayashi’s voice.

  Ami slid off Makoto and stood next to the stretcher. She felt lightheaded as she reached out to pat Makoto’s leg. Her heart skipped a beat.

  She’s alive!

  Kobayashi approached her.

  “What happened?”

  Ami hesitated. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Instead, she settled on a lie that would explain the nature of Makoto’s injuries.

  “It was a hit and run. The car plowed into her and another of my friends. She’s on her way here, too, but her injuries are less severe.”

  Kobayashi nodded and turned his attention to a nurse tending to Makoto.

  “Call surgery. Tell them we have a hit-and-run patient. Significant trauma, perhaps internal injuries.” He thought for a moment. “Ask if Dr. Tanaka is available.”

  The nurse nodded once and dashed away. He turned back to Ami.

  “She’s the best trauma surgeon on staff.”

  Ami sighed.

  “Thank you.”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “You did well, Dr. Mizuno. Your friend lives, for now. The next few hours will decide the rest.”

  He strode from the treatment area and moved on to the next patient. Now, finally, Ami allowed herself to break down. She collapsed into a chair and cried tears of joy.

  She hadn’t failed this time. Makoto was still here. For now, that’s all that mattered.