This was a mistake. Whatever this conversation was going to be, it would hurt. Maggie had made her position clear. Distance. Boundaries. Safety.
Evie knocked anyway.
“Come in.”
Maggie sat behind her desk, posture perfect, white coat immaculate. The afternoon light from the window caught the silver threading through her dark hair, highlighting the exhaustion she tried so hard to hide.
She looked up when Evie entered, and for just a moment—one unguarded moment—Evie saw everything Maggie was working so hard to contain.
Then the mask slipped back into place.
“Close the door,” Maggie said quietly.
Evie did.
The click of the latch felt final.
“I had a meeting with the Medical Review Committee this morning,” Maggie said without preamble.
Evie’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“Someone filed a complaint. About us.”
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Evie crossed to the chair in front of Maggie’s desk and sank into it, her legs suddenly unsteady. “Who?”
“They wouldn’t say. A resident. Someone who saw us enter the supply closet together.” Maggie’s voice was carefully controlled, but Evie heard the strain underneath. “Video shows us leaving hospital grounds together when we went to the café, and badge swipes indicate we were in the on-call room overnight together. They’re investigating whether I’ve violated professional boundaries.”
“That’s insane,” Evie said immediately. “You haven’t?—”
“Haven’t I?” Maggie interrupted, finally meeting her eyes. “I brought you to my service. I spent extra time mentoring you. I took you to coffee off hospital grounds. And then. Well, fuck. You know the rest of the fucking story,” She stopped, jaw tightening, hands up in the air.
“And then we slept together,” Evie finished. “Two consenting adults. Outside of work. That’s not a violation.”
“It is if you’re under my supervision,” Maggie said quietly. “Which you are. And oh, let’s not forget that we were in the on-call room—that isnot‘outside of work.’ Jesus Christ. How could I be so fucking stupid?!”
Evie leaned forward. “So what did you tell them?”
“The truth. Or close to it.” Maggie’s fingers drummed once against her desk—the only tell that she was rattled. “That I’ve been mentoring you. That the café meeting was about a case. That there’s no conflict of interest.”
“And the rest?”
Maggie looked away. “I denied the rest. Of course I did.”
“So you lied?”
“I protected you,” Maggie corrected, her voice sharpening. “There’s a difference.”
Evie felt anger flare—hot and immediate. “No, you decided for me. Again. Without asking what I wanted.”
“What you want doesn’t matter if it destroys your career. Surely this doesn’t mean that fucking much to you,” Maggie snapped.
“Your career, don’t you mean?” Evie challenged. “Because that’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You’re terrified that if anyone finds out, you’ll lose everything you’ve spent fifteen years building.”
Maggie stood abruptly, crossing to the window. Her spine was rigid, shoulders squared. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”
“Then explain it to me,” Evie said, standing too. “Stop hiding behind protocol and tell me what you’re actually afraid of.”
