Silence stretched between them.
When Maggie finally spoke, her voice was quieter. Rawer. “They’re going to call you in. Probably tomorrow. And they’re going to ask you questions.”
“Then I’ll tell them the truth.”
Maggie spun around. “Don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t tell them about us,” Maggie said, and there was something desperate in her eyes now. “Please. Just... corroborate what I said. Mentorship. Professional relationship. Nothing more.”
Evie stared at her. “You want me to lie.”
“I want you to survive this,” Maggie said. “Because if you tell them what happened, they won’t just investigate me. They’ll destroy you. Transfer you. Mark your file. Follow you to every hospital you work at for the rest of your career.”
“And if I lie?”
“Then we have a chance?”
Evie laughed—short, bitter. “A chance at what, Maggie? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re asking me to erase what happened between us so you can go back topretending it didn’t matter. And right now, I’m struggling to believe a word you say.”
“That’s not—” Maggie stopped, closing her eyes. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
When Maggie opened her eyes again, they were wet. Not crying—Maggie Laurel didn’t cry—but close. “I’m trying not to be the reason you lose what you’ve created.”
The words landed like a blow.
Evie felt her anger drain away, replaced by something more complicated. “You really think that little of me? That I can’t handle the consequences of my own choices?”
“I think you don’t know what those consequences look like yet,” Maggie said. “And I do. Because I’ve lived them.”
Evie took a step closer. “Tell me.”
“What?”
“Tell me what happened. The thing you never talk about. The reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting anyone in.”
Maggie’s breath hitched. “Evie?—”
“I know about Sarah,” Evie continued, gentler now. “You told me you lost her. But there’s something else, isn’t there? Something that happened after.”
For a long moment, Maggie didn’t speak.
Then, slowly, she sank back into her chair. Not sitting, collapsing. Like the weight of everything she’d been carrying had finally become too much.
“After my wife died,” Maggie said, voice barely above a whisper, “I fell apart. Completely. I couldn’t work. Couldn’t function. I took a leave of absence and—” She swallowed hard. “I got involved with someone. Another attending. It was too soon. I wasn’t ready. But I was desperate not to be alone.”
Evie sat down across from her, listening.
“It ended badly,” Maggie continued. “She was married. I didn’t know at first, and when I found out, I tried to end it. But she didn’t want that. She got possessive. Controlling. When I finally broke it off completely, she filed a complaint. Said I’d pursued her. Coerced her. Used my position to manipulate her.”
Evie’s chest tightened. “Jesus, Maggie.”
“It took six months to clear my name,” Maggie said. “Six months of investigations, interviews, lawyers. Even after they dismissed the complaint, the rumor followed me. That’s why I left my old hospital. That’s why I came to Oakridge. To start over. And then you walked in.”
She looked up at Evie, and the vulnerability in her eyes was devastating.
