The following days were a true ordeal for Cristina. News of her dismissal spread like wildfire. “Problematic,” “rebellious,” her references said. The doors of other clinics slammed shut in her face.
One afternoon, exhausted and desperate, she went into a small café to count the few coins she had left. Sitting by the window, she watched the rain fall, wondering how she would ever pay for her mother’s medication.
—May I sit down?
Cristina looked up. A man was standing in front of her. He was dressed simply, but his demeanor was different. There was something in his gaze… that gaze.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
“It was me,” he said softly. “I am the man whose life you saved.”
Cristina froze. She was so different without the dirt and blood.
“Are you okay?” was her first question, forgetting her own misfortune.
— Thanks to you, yes. My name is Miguel. I know what they did to you. I know they threw you out like a dog for helping me.
Cristina lowered her eyes, ashamed.
“I’ve lost everything, Miguel. My career, my reputation. And all because of…” She broke off.
“For having done what was necessary?” he concluded, leaning over the table. “Cristina, the problem isn’t you. The problem is a rotten system. But listen to me carefully: things are going to change.”
They talked for hours. Miguel didn’t reveal his true identity. He wanted to know the woman behind the nurse. He discovered her kindness, her dream of opening a clinic for the poorest, her unconditional love for her work. And listening to her, Miguel felt something he hadn’t experienced in years: genuine admiration. And perhaps, the beginning of something deeper.
“We’ll meet again, Cristina,” he said as he took his leave, leaving enough money to pay the bill and more. “Trust me.”
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Two days later, Cristina’s phone rang. It was an official summons from Santa Helena Hospital. “Attendance is mandatory, as required by management.”
She hesitated to go. Why bother? Another humiliation? But curiosity and a strange hope compelled her to attend.
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