WHISPERS OF LINGORM : A One-Shot Anthology - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

It was a golden, ordinary day in Bangkok City, and for Dr. Orm Kornnaphat Sethratanapong, it seemed like just another routine day as well. Orm—a highly skilled trauma surgeon—had recently joined Bangkok's largest and most prestigious hospital, Sirilak Medical Institute (SMI), and today marked her eighth day at work. Known for its top-tier trauma care facilities, SMI was a beacon of advanced medicine and precision, where only the best doctors were trusted to handle complex, life-threatening cases. For Orm, this wasn’t just a job—it was the culmination of years of dedication, her dream slowly unfolding.
Dr. Orm was no ordinary surgeon. Her expertise lay in handling polytrauma injuries, complex emergency laparotomies, and acute resuscitation protocols, earning her respect even within the tight-knit medical community. Despite belonging to one of the wealthiest business families, Orm had chosen to pursue medicine out of sheer love for the field, refusing to inherit the silver spoon. Her reputation was already making waves among her colleagues, and today was especially important: Inspection Day. The hospital chairwoman, Dr. Somjai kwong—herself a highly respected cardiothoracic surgeon and the owner of SMI—was scheduled to inspect every department, ensuring staff performance and hospital protocols were upheld. Inspection Days were vital in maintaining SMI’s excellence, as they assessed everything from patient care to emergency readiness, leaving no room for error.
Having wrapped up her last patient for the hour, Orm meticulously briefed the attending nurse, explaining post-procedural care in detail—medications, vital checks, and follow-up wound assessments. Once satisfied, she cleaned up, removed her gloves with practiced precision, and settled into her cabin to catch a short break before lunch. But before she could gather her thoughts, her phone buzzed.
It was Dr. Becky, her longtime friend and colleague, who worked in the Anesthesiology department at the same hospital. Becky and Orm had been inseparable since their university days—both had dreamed of working at SMI together, and now that dream was a reality.
“Orm, come to my cabin. Nothing urgent, but let’s discuss something before lunch,” Becky said casually. Orm smiled faintly, agreeing without hesitation.
Orm left her cabin, heading toward Becky’s office. Passing through the main reception near the entrance, she suddenly slowed down as a commotion caught her attention.
she identified the troublemakers—medical university students, identified by their matching uniforms of the Faculty of Medicine, Mahidol University,—clearly involved in something unruly. They appeared to be dragging someone inside, forcibly holding onto a girl who was squirming against their grip.
The scene was loud, disruptive, and completely out of place in the hospital’s otherwise calm atmosphere. Orm’s irritation spiked. This was a place of healing, not chaos.
With measured strides and authority emanating from her presence, she marched toward the group. Her voice cut through the noise like a blade, sharp and commanding
“Enough! What is going on here?"
The sudden silence was almost deafening. All heads turned toward her as the hospital staff instinctively stepped aside, offering respectful bows to their superior. The group of students froze in place, some visibly nervous under her sharp, unwavering gaze. Orm stood tall, her hands crossed in front of her, eyes narrowed in expectation.
It was only then that the person at the center of the chaos became visible—a young woman being restrained by two students. She was still wriggling, stubbornly trying to free herself, her voice adamant.
“Let me go, damn it!....You idiots!”
Orm’s gaze fixated on the girl, irritation deepening. She ignored a staff member attempting to explain the situation, silencing him with a single raised hand. Stepping forward, Orm placed a firm yet calm hand on the girl's shoulder, her voice steady and commanding.
“Still now. That’s enough.”
The girl stiffened at the contact, finally looking up—her dark, defiant eyes locking with Orm’s. For a fleeting moment, the chaos dissipated into a strange stillness. Her struggles ceased as if the weight of Orm’s gaze alone had rendered her motionless.
“Let her go” Orm ordered the students holding her. They complied immediately, releasing their grip.
Turning to the group, Orm asked sharply, “You’re all university students, aren’t you? How did you all get so badly injured, especially her?” pointing towards the girl in the centre.
One of them hesitantly mumbled, “Actually, we had a fi—”
“I was rescuing a cat!” the girl suddenly blurted out, cutting them off.
Orm arched an eyebrow, incredulous. “A cat? Really? How does saving a cat result in injuries like these? Were you rescuing tigers or what?”
“Umm… well…” the girl stammered.
“Leave it.” Orm sighed, clearly unimpressed. Turning to the hospital staff, she issued sharp orders. “Take them all to the treatment area. Call Dr. Patra, Dr. Sunee, and Dr. Kittisak from trauma surgery. Get everything prepped—fluids, wound kits, and trauma dressings. Coordinate with the nurses.”
The staff nodded and immediately sprang into action. Orm didn’t glance back as she walked away, her mind already shifting gears to her next task.
Meanwhile, the girl—still frozen in place—watched her retreating figure in silence, her expression unreadable.
“Ling,” one of her friends nudged her, smirking. “What happened? You stopped wriggling the second she touched your shoulder. You okay?”
Ling didn’t respond immediately, her gaze lingering on the spot where Orm had disappeared. Finally, her voice came out in a near-whisper, but its tone was resolute.
“Who is she?”
A nearby staff overheard and answered matter-of-factly. “That’s our new trauma surgeon.”
Ling’s lips curled slightly as she nodded, turning back to her friends. Lowering her voice so only they could hear, she whispered, “I think I just met your future sister-in-law.”
One of her friends groaned, lightly smacking her head. “You idiot, not this okay! Just walk, or she might come back and actually kill you this time, not just through her sharp gaze, but also with medical tools."
The group broke into quiet laughter, including Ling, as they headed toward the treatment room.
The treatment room was calm despite the earlier chaos, with four doctors attending to four patients, each assisted by two nurses and separated by curtains slightly. The patients sat quietly as their wounds were tended to, the sterile air filled with the soft sounds of gauze being unwrapped, antiseptic bottles clicking shut, and hushed murmurs of medical instructions.
Dr. Orm was focused entirely on treating Ling’s wounds. Her hands moved with precision, sterilizing each scrape and carefully dressing every cut. But Ling—her attention was fixed entirely on Orm, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist. With a soft smile on her lips, Ling watched Orm as though the wounds didn’t matter at all—only Orm did.
As Orm dabbed antiseptic over a particularly raw scrape, Ling hissed sharply, her face scrunching up in pain.
“Shhh! Ahhh!” Ling winced, her voice echoing softly in the room.
Hearing this, Orm’s eyes snapped up, her expression shifting to one of instant concern, her voice soft and concerning. “Sorry! Just a little more—almost done. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
Ling smiled at her words, ignoring the sting, her gaze never wavering. Watching her patient grin like that only made Orm frown slightly in confusion. She looked at Ling and asked softly, “Does it still hurt?”
Ling shook her head, her smile growing faintly playful as if to reassure Orm.
Determined to keep Ling’s focus away from the pain, Orm resumed the treatment, her voice calm and steady as she occasionally engaged Ling in conversation. While her hands worked expertly, one of the nurses came over, holding a clipboard. “Doctor, we’re filling out patient details. Can you confirm their names?”
Still focused on cleaning a particularly deep wound, Orm asked without looking up, “Name?”
Ling’s lips curled mischievously as she quipped, “I would love to know.”
Orm’s hands paused momentarily, her brows furrowing slightly before she looked up at Ling with an exasperated stare. “Your name?”
Ling scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, suppressing a smile as her friends—sitting a few feet away—giggled quietly, trying to stifle their laughter. “Lingling” she finally answered, her voice steady but playful.
The nurse scribbled down the name, moving on to other formalities. Orm, meanwhile, looked back at Ling and asked matter-of-factly, "Specialization and year?”
Ling’s posture straightened, her face lighting up with a proud smile. “Cardiac surgery. Final year.”
Orm’s brow lifted slightly, her voice carrying subtle approval. “Hmm, a heart surgeon.”
Ling’s smile widened into a playful grin. She placed a finger lightly over her chest and said dramatically, “Though right now, I think I’ve become a heart patient just by looking at someone.”
The room fell quiet for a split second as Ling gazed at Orm with unmistakable affection, her tone teasing yet soft. Orm stopped mid-motion, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly at Ling in a pointed look—half amused, half exasperated.
Ling didn’t falter. Her gaze lingered, unwavering, her smile lingering with warmth that made the moment feel heavier than it should have. For the first time, Orm’s professionalism faltered, though briefly. With a small shake of her head, she resumed dressing Ling’s wounds, refusing to indulge the younger girl’s obvious flirtation.
But Ling only smiled wider, her heart hammering in her chest—not from pain, but from the undeniable spark she felt at being so close to the stoic, focused surgeon.
At that moment, a second nurse entered the treatment room, briskly informing Orm and the others, “The chairwoman is heading to this department ma'am.”
The announcement wiped the smile clean off Ling’s face, replaced instantly with visible tension. Her demeanor shifted from playful to urgent, causing Orm to furrow her brows in confusion.
Ling, hastily grabbing the edge of the table, said, “Thanks P'mor. I’m feeling better! Bye!” and attempted to stand up.
Still perplexed, Orm placed a firm hand on Ling’s shoulder, gently but commandingly pushing her back down. “Where do you think you’re going? The wounds haven’t even been fully treated. Sit down quietly.”
Ling, momentarily frozen, complied without argument. There was something in Orm’s no-nonsense tone—an authority Ling couldn’t ignore. Orm resumed tending to her hand while Ling’s face was half-hidden under her tousled hair.
Under her breath, Ling cursed her friends, muttering, “I told these idiots not to drag me here—especially today”
Orm, catching the mumble, asked “Did you say something?”
Ling quickly shook her head. “Nothing."
Before Orm could probe further, the door to the treatment room swung open. In walked the Chairwoman, exuding both professional authority and a casual friendly familiarity. She glanced around, her sharp gaze directly landing on Orm as she spoke in a slightly amused tone. “Doctor Orm, still working during lunch? Emergency case?”
Orm straightened immediately, turning respectfully to address her. “No, ma’am, just these university students—”
Orm didn’t get to finish her sentence. As the Chairperson’s gaze landed squarely on Ling, the color drained from Ling’s face. Panic flickered briefly in her eyes as she muttered under her breath, “I’m dead.”
The tension in the room spiked as Ling plastered on a sheepish smile and offered a small, reluctant wave. “Hi, Mom…”
Orm blinked. Mom?
The Chairperson, now narrowing her eyes, sighed deeply and fixed her gaze on Ling. Her voice, equal parts stern and exasperated, demanded, “What did you fight about this time?”
Before Ling could muster a response, the Chairperson raised a hand, silencing her. “And don’t tell me it was about saving a cat!”
Ling, clearly guilty, scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, failing to meet her mother’s piercing stare.
Orm watched the entire exchange with growing bewilderment. Did she just say “Hi, Mom”? Orm’s mind raced am—this bruised and slightly ridiculous girl sitting before her is Chairperson’s daughter.
Her boss’s daughter.
The realization hung heavily in the air as Ling slumped slightly, offering a pitiful, “Sorry, Mom.”
The Chairperson let out another sigh, though this time with a faint touch of resignation, before turning back to Orm. “Doctor Orm, please ensure her treatment is completed. I’ll deal with her later.” and turning to ling she said "Meet me in the cabin after this!"
Orm, her composure returning quickly, nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
As the Chairperson left the room, Ling groaned softly, slumping forward on the table. Her friends exchanged awkward glances, biting back laughter.
Meanwhile, Orm silently resumed Ling’s treatment, though she couldn’t help stealing a glance at Ling’s mischievous expression.
Ling caught Orm’s eye and whispered, “Well… surprise?”