He reaches for a frameless pair of glasses and puts them on with a single hand while grabbing my folder with the other. The action is so effortless and yet so meticulous at the same time. I find myself staring at his hands for a moment, noticing their incredible structure and size. His fingers have a certain elegance about them, like they can wield magic or something.

Well, he is a surgeon, so I guess that’s technically true on some level.

“Ramona Gallo,” he says as he looks at the first page of my form. The incredible depth of his voice sends a bolt of shivers down my spine, catching me off guard. I find myself wanting him to say my name again, and I think I’m even more surprised by that reaction.

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