Burnt by Karly Lane

all right. The women who streamed through the halls of the city hospitals made up an endless, faceless river of pain. The sheer enormity of the problem made her feel small and helpless. But here, in her hometown, she wanted to make a difference. ‘Come on, Rick,’ she pleaded.
    â€˜Sorry, I don’t have the beds to spare, even if I thought it was a viable solution. Save your energy for the patients who want our help.’
    Rebecca stared after him and silently swore up a storm. She knew the effect dealing with patients had on health professionals. It was easy to burn out in this job – but she swore that if she ever began to think like Rick, she’d leave before it made her a jaded, disillusioned shell of her former self.
    Despite her best attempts to convince Beryl that she had options, she called the number she’d been given and asked the man who answered to come and pick up his mother.
    When she let Beryl know they were coming, she asked about him.
    â€˜That would be Charles. He’s my youngest,’ she said with a long sigh. ‘The only son I have left now.’
    Rebecca felt the condolences stick to the top of her mouth like a bite of peanut butter sandwich. In her current emotional state, she wasn’t sure Beryl would cope with the memory of that long-ago accident and Rebecca’s own part in it.
    Walking her out to the waiting room as Charles came to the window of the front desk, Rebecca once again had a strong premonition of something bad. How did a son allow his own mother to be beaten and hurt like that? Why didn’t he intervene and remove her from the situation? She found it difficult to watch him escort his mother through the doors a few minutes later, and a chill crept its icy fingers across her skin as she watched – helpless to act on the woman’s behalf.
    She almost wished that the monster had rendered the woman unconscious. It would have been more clear cut: she could have called the police herself and pressed charges. It was probably the only way it would ever happen in this situation – and even then, as soon as she was conscious she’d likely just drop the charges. Rebecca understood Rick had good reason to be jaded over the situation, but she was damned if she would ever be able to simply shrug it off and move on to the next patient as easily as he seemed to.
    Rebecca heard the phone ringing inside the house and cursed under her breath. Why was it the minute you were up to your elbows in something (in this case, weeding), the phone rang – or worse, visitors dropped by? She was tempted to ignore it; a tinge of apprehension flickered through her at the thought of it being that eerie, dead silence on the other end once more. She hadn’t mentioned it to Seb again, but it seemed to be happening more frequently in the last few days – sometimes up to three times a day, and late at night.
    The ringing stopped just as she reached for the handset and she released the involuntary breath she’d been holding. She eyed the phone warily for a few more seconds before heading to the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from her hands. Weeding had lost its shine, the sick feeling hadn’t quite left her stomach, and she decided it was as good a time as any for a coffee break.
    Rebecca glanced at the clock above the sink and was surprised to see it was almost noon. Her morning in the garden had been well spent; the pretty gardens, planted by someone who obviously enjoyed gardening, were slowly coming back to their original splendour and she couldn’t wait to sit out there and enjoy them – weed free and uncluttered.
    The buzz from her handbag on the kitchen bench made her jump. She dug through the contents of the bag, past the girls’ hats and various hair bands, brushes and a tangle of headphones that had somehow found its way in there, to triumphantly claim her mobile.
    A number she didn’t recognise made her hesitate briefly before