The Ex-Best Friend's Cruelty

The old man hit the pavement hard.

One moment I was walking to meet my best friend, Jessica, for coffee, the next my medical student instincts screamed.

"Sarah, stop!"

Jessica's grip on my arm was tight, her face a mask of alarm.

"Don't get involved," she hissed, warning of scams and pickpockets.

Her words, and a past trauma of kindness exploited, made me pause, just for a second.

A fatal second.

In that life, I listened.

I stood by, fear warring with my training, as precious minutes ticked away.

Mr. Henderson, the veteran, died before the ambulance arrived.