The torrential rain hammered the glass dome over the emergency room, as if someone were pouring an entire river down from above. Lin Musheng stared at the glaring flat line on the heart monitor, his fingers trembling inside his gloves. A seven-year-old girl lay on the operating table, her school uniform soaked with blood, her chest caved in and her pupils dilated. Twenty minutes ago, an out-of-control truck had sent her flying more than ten meters. "Dr. Lin, it's been forty minutes," the head nurse gently reminded him, pity in her eyes. He knew. He knew that if there was no return of spontaneous circulation after more than thirty minutes of CPR, the patient could be pronounced dead. But the girl's mother was kneeling in the hallway...
