Respond to an accident caused by a lesbian tryst among the nurses.

You leave the scene of your shame, or was it your enlightenment, to answer your pager call.

They need you downstairs in Emergency to help sort things out. Not only is it another injury case -- capping an unusually busy day at your hospital -- but it's multiple people, and two of them are nurses scheduled to work the next shift, leaving a hole in your staffing.

You lose yourself in the bustle of work, shifting patients and staff around, until you finally have a moment to take a breath in the bathroom.

You stand at the endmost sink, washing your hands, washing your face -- again, those traces of Mary's and June's vaginal juices remind you of what you did today, before you wash them away with handfuls of warm soapy water. You rinse with cold, again and again, looking yourself in the eyes in the mirror and wondering, How could I? Who am I? What am I?

The mirror shows more or less the face you know. Blue eyes, dark hair threaded here and there with silver. Old enough to know better. But the expression on your face isn't the usual cool mask of competence. You see doubt, and even more, hunger.

Two nurses emerge from the stalls and join you at the sinks. "How was it again?" one asks.

"They were parked on a country road, on a hill," the other says. "Parking brake got loose somehow, and the car went off the road, rolled a couple of times. Concussion, broken arm, collarbone."

You look at their reflections in the mirror. Jill Slocum and Sadie Little, veteran nurses. Jill might have your job one day. You look yourself in the eyes again. Maybe sooner than either of you expected.

"Sooo," Sadie says. "What were they doing that they didn't notice right away?"

You pretend to be invisible.

"Word is they were, well, having sex," Jill says.

"Cara and Julie?" Sadie says. "I mean I kind of knew about Julie. But Cara's a nursing student!"

You find yourself looking at their lips as they talk. Had they ever kissed other women? More than kissed? Your heart thumps. You feel moisture between your legs, and you remember that your panties are under Brian Forbes' pillow in his hospital room. Looking at your face, you see your cheeks are a little pinker. Not a blush, not quite. You'll pass.

"Cara's twenty-two," Jill says. "Yes, and both of them are married, too." Jill notices it's you. "Ms. Bates!" she says, looking at you with alarm.

The gossip was a little unprofessional, you'll agree. But you can't trust that any sense will come out of your mouth right now, so you don't take them to task. You nod in acknowledgment. "Jill, Sadie," you say. "Jill, would you find who we'll need to cover for Julie and Cara's hours tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jill says. She rinses her hands, dries them, and scoots off to work.

"Ms. Bates," Sadie acknowledges.

"See you tomorrow," you say. At least your shift is over.

You need to find someone you can talk to about what happened for you today. But who?

• Your husband, who you love dearly, and you've talked over so many troubles with.
• Gina Palatino, the HR assistant, an out lesbian with a carefree attitude. You've had lunch together before, and you know she's friendly and approachable. She might have some insight, particularly if there might be more closeted relationships like Julie and Cara's.
• June Phillips, the redheaded young nurse who was all wrapped up in today's strange events. Maybe she understands what's going on.
• Mary Forbes herself. You're tempted to confront her and demand what she did to you. But you just aren't sure. Did she do that? Did she see something inside you?
• Some other confidante who you trust with today's extraordinary story.