“That’s what I’m saying. Because I fucking know you. And you wouldn’t risk everything for nothing.”
Maggie ordered coffee. They sat.
“Do you remember what you told me after the investigation cleared at Cedar-Sinai?” Lisa asked.
“Which part?”
“You said you were done. Done with relationships, done with vulnerability, done with anything that could compromise your work.”
“I remember, clear as day,” Maggie sighed as her fingers ran through her hair. She could feel how heavy her eyes slumped into her skull as the lack of sleep took over her.
“And I told you that was a terrible idea. That you were punishing yourself for someone else’s lies.”
Maggie smiled faintly. “You did. And I told you to mind your own fucking business.”
“You did.” Lisa leaned forward. “So what changed then?”
“Evie. She changed me. Or maybe she just... refused to let me hide.”
“Good for her. You’re not a devil you know? You might feel like the villain, but you’re human and you deserve goodness.”
Maggie set down her cup. “I’m on leave, Lisa. My reputation is damaged. Again. The whispers are starting. I don’t know how I ended up back here.”
“Your reputation will recover,” Lisa said firmly. “The question is—will you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you can keep punishing yourself for being human. Keep building walls. Keep pretending you don’t need anyone.” She paused. “Or you can accept that you deserve to be loved. Even if it’s messy. Even if it costs you.”
“But my anxiety circles back round to the “what if I lose everything” question. And I struggle with that, you know?”
Lisa’s expression softened. “What are you protecting, Maggie? A career that makes you miserable? A reputation built on isolation? The right to die alone and call it dignity? Talk to anyone on their death bed, you know they’d tell you life is too fucking short.”
The words were harsh. But loving.
Maggie absorbed them slowly.
“Sarah wouldn’t want this for you,” Lisa continued.
“You didn’t know her.”
“No. But I knowyou. I know the woman you were with her—the one who took risks, who believed in things, who let herself feel.” Lisa’s voice gentled. “What happened to her?”
“She learned better.”
“Or she learned wrong.”
They finished their coffee in companionable silence. When they parted outside, Lisa pulled Maggie into a hug.
“Stop hiding,” she whispered. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Back home, Maggie returned to Sarah’s journals.
She found the entry she’d been looking for—two weeks before Sarah died.
I need to write this while I still can. While the words still come.
Maggie thinks she’s failing me. I can see it in her eyes every time she adjusts my meds, checks my vitals, recalculates dosages like there’s a perfect equation that will keep me here.
