Maggie blinked. “What?”
“While you were talking about her. You were smiling. Like really smiling.” Kim leaned forward slightly. “I’ve known you for five years, Maggie. Through Sarah’s illness, her death, the investigation at Cedar-Sinai. I have never—not once—seen you smile like that when talking about another person. I thought it was worth a mention.”
The words landed like stones in water, ripples spreading outward.
“Not even Sarah?” Maggie asked quietly.
“Not even Sarah,” Kim confirmed. “With Sarah, you talked about responsibility. Duty. What you owed her. But with this woman—Evie—you talk aboutfeeling. About beingalive.”
Maggie’s throat tightened. “That doesn’t make it right.”
“No,” Kim agreed. “But it makes it real. And that terrifies you. Right?”
“Of course it does. You know what happened with Rebecca?—”
“I know what Rebeccadid,” Kim interrupted gently. “I also know that wasn’t your fault. But you internalized it anyway.Built walls. Made rules. Decided that the only way to survive was to never be vulnerable again.”
“It worked,” Maggie said defensively.
“Did it?” Kim’s voice was kind but unflinching. “Because from where I’m sitting, you survived. But you didn’t live. There’s a difference.”
Maggie looked away, jaw tight.
“Tell me about Sarah,” Kim continued. “Not what happened. What itmeant.”
Maggie closed her eyes. “It meant I failed. She was dying and I couldn’t save her.”
“You’re a doctor, Maggie. Not God.”
“I should have?—”
“What?” Kim challenged. “Cured pancreatic cancer? Rewritten biology? Been perfect enough that death didn’t dare take her?”
“I should have been enough,” Maggie said, and her voice broke on the last word.
The tissues appeared on the side table. Maggie grabbed one, pressing it to her eyes.
“Enough for what?” Kim asked softly.
“For her to want to fight. To live. To not give up.”
“Did Sarah blame you?”
“No.”
“Then why do you blame yourself?”
Maggie’s hands clenched in her lap. “Because if I don’t, then it was just random. Just cruel and random and meaningless. Just something that happened and I couldn’t stop it.”
“And if it was your fault,” Kim said slowly, “at least you had control?”
“Yes,” Maggie whispered.
Kim was quiet for a moment, letting that sit.
“But you didn’t have control,” she said finally. “You don’t. You can’t control whether people live or die. You can’t control whether they leave or stay. You can’t control whether loving someone will end in loss.”
“So what can I control?” Maggie demanded, looking up.
