Daisy’s eyes found hers one more time. “For what?”
The question hung in the air—not bitter, just honest. Painfully, devastatingly honest.
Evie had no answer.
She sat with them in silence for ten minutes, her hand resting lightly on Daisy’s arm, feeling the fragile rhythm of her pulse beneath paper-thin skin. When she finally stood to leave, Daisy’s eyes were closed, her breathing shallow but steady.
In the hallway, Evie leaned against the wall and let herself shake.
***
Evie sat alone in the hospital cafeteria, pushing a sad-looking salad around her plate while pretending to review labs on her tablet.
She wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of all herself.
The cafeteria was busy—nurses grabbing coffee between shifts, residents scarfing down food they’d forgotten to eat hoursago, attendings holding quiet meetings over lukewarm soup. The noise was a low hum of normalcy that felt alien today.
“Mind if I sit?”
Evie looked up.
Doctor James Morrison stood there with his tray, eyebrows raised in question. He was a fellow resident—internal medicine, second year—with an easy smile and a reputation for being aggressively mediocre.
“Sure,” Evie said, because saying no would’ve been more work.
Morrison sat, immediately digging into his burger. “So. First day with Patel. How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
Evie kept her eyes on her tablet. “It’s an adjustment.”
“I bet.” Morrison took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. Then, too casually: “Everyone’s talking about it, you know.”
Evie’s jaw tightened. “About what?”
“Come on. You and Laurel.”
Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
Morrison shrugged. “It’s not a secret. The suspension. The transfer. People put two and two together. News travels fast.”
“People should focus on their own work and mind their own fucking business,” Evie said, her voice flat.
“Hey, I’m not judging.” He held up his hands. “I’m just saying... everyone saw it. The way she looked at you. The extra attention. I guess chemistry is chemistry, right?”
Evie set down her fork carefully. Very carefully. “And what exactly do you think you saw?”
“That you got special treatment because?—”
He didn’t finish.
Evie stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the linoleum. “Let me be very clear about something. I got on Doctor Laurel’sservice because I’m good at my job. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the review committee.”
Morrison blinked. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Yes, you did.” Evie leaned in, voice low and dangerous. “And here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to keep whatever opinions you have to yourself. Because if I hear that you’ve been spreading rumors about me—or about Doctor Laurel—I will make sure every attending on this floor knows exactly how many times you’ve missed obvious diagnoses this month.”
