“So yes,” Maggie said. “I know what it looks like when this goes wrong. I know howquicklyeverything you’ve worked for can disappear. And I will not—Icannot—be the reason that happens to you.”
Evie felt tears prick at her own eyes. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was,” Maggie said. “What matters is that it happened. And I learned from it. I built walls. I made rules. I survived by never letting anyone close enough to hurt me again.”
“And then I showed up,” Evie said softly.
Maggie’s mouth curved—sad, small. “And then you showed up.”
They sat in the quiet of Maggie’s office, the afternoon light shifting across the desk between them.
Evie wanted to reach across that space. To take Maggie’s hand. To tell her that not everyone would betray her, that not every risk ended in disaster, that sometimes the only way through fear was to walk straight into it.
But she didn’t.
Because Maggie wasn’t ready to hear it yet.
Instead, Evie said, “I won’t lie to them.”
Maggie’s head snapped up. “Evie?—”
“But,” Evie continued, “I won’t volunteer information they don’t ask for either. If they ask me directly whether we’ve been intimate, I’ll tell the truth. But if they ask about mentorship and professional boundaries, I’ll answer honestly about that too—that you’ve been nothing but professional in your teaching.”
Maggie studied her. “That’s a very fine line.”
“It’s the only line I can walk and still look at myself in the mirror,” Evie said. “I’m not ashamed of what happened between us, Maggie. I won’t pretend I am.”
“Even if it costs you?”
“Even then.”
Maggie closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “You’re going to make this very difficult. I don’t know why you’re still trying with me.”
Evie ignored the last part. “Good,” she said. “You need difficult. You’ve been doing easy for fifteen years and look where it’s gotten you.”
That pulled a real laugh from Maggie—short, surprised. “God, you’re infuriating.”
“So I’ve been told.”
The tension in the room shifted—not gone, but softer. Manageable.
Evie stood. “I should go. I have rounds in ten minutes.”
“Evie.”
She stopped at the door.
“Thank you,” Maggie said quietly. “For... understanding. Or trying to, anyway.”
Evie turned back. “For what it’s worth? I think you’re brave. I think you survived something horrific and came out the other side still believing in medicine. That’s not weakness. That’s strength. And I like that about you, amongst other things.”
Maggie’s eyes shimmered. “It doesn’t feel like strength.”
“It never does,” Evie said. “Not when you’re in it.”
She left before Maggie could respond, closing the door softly behind her.
That evening, Evie sat in Daisy Carter’s room.
