“You did,” she sliced clean through his sentence. “And I’ve heard you. But now I’d like to hear from Dr. Maddox, if that’s all right.”
It wasn’t a question—and still Finn opened his mouth as if to argue. She lifted a hand just as I knocked my knee against his, pure instinct, my gut twisted around my lungs and heart even though I knew it wasn’t medically possible. Felt like it, though.
I drew a slow, conscious breath. “It’s true,” I told her. “What you saw. We… I asked Finn to come home with me. It was my call.”
“Jesse,” Finn said sharply. “Don’t.”
I didn’t look at him. Novak didn’t either.
“So you initiated it,” she said, one thinly plucked eyebrow arching high.
I raised my head, knotting my fingers where she couldn’t see. “Yes.”
“And you believe that absolves him?”
“I’m not trying to absolve anyone. But if you’re looking for someone to blame?” Somehow, my voice held through the end of the world as I knew it. “Put it on me.”
“For fuck’ssake,” Finn muttered. He sounded more tired than angry, and I shot him a quick look that bounced off the bow of his upper lip and the blueblueblue of his eyes. Then I turned away, back to Novak.
“He’s at the beginning of his first year. I’m a fellow. It’s my responsibility.”
Something loosened around the corners of her mouth. It wasn’t a smile, not quite—more the outline of one, as if she had yet to fully commit. “Interesting,” she said. “Dr. Hayes told me the same in reverse. That it was his fault. That you shouldn’t be punished.”
He… had.
He had?
I glanced at him. His head was bent, a hint of color dusting his cheeks, and God, I wanted to reach for him—not sure I was still allowed.
He’d lied for me. Why?
Novak’s voice pulled my focus back to her. “So, one of you is lying.” She let it settle like dust. “Or maybe you both are, inan attempt to shield the other. I’m inclined to believe it’s the second. Still—actions have consequences.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I stepped back as his supervising fellow. Weeks ago, as soon as I realized I was…biased.”
“And I’m glad you did,” she said. “It matters. But it doesn’t solve today’s problem: You are still scheduled to submit his post-separation evaluation. Obviously, that’s no longer viable.”
“No, of course not.” I nodded, relief a brief, dim spark in my chest. “Tay—Dr. Carter can do it.”
“He was on the other side of the table, so no, I don’t think he can. We’ll adjust oversight to me.” A glance at Finn. “I’ll be fair.”
“Dr. Novak,” Finn began, only to fall silent as if he couldn’t remember what he’d meant to say, which direction to take.
“Dr. Hayes.” Her voice slipped a notch warmer. “I’m sure I’m not the first one to tell you that this job comes with sacrifices—trust me, I know. And I can tell that this isn’t trivial for either of you.”
Nothing. I had absolutely fucking nothing when whatever I said could be used against us. For the first time since I’d sat down, I turned to face Finn. Our eyes held for a beat that vibrated all the way down to my toes.
Novak tapped a pen against the desk once, twice. It broke the moment. “That’s the administrative side,” she said. “For now, I’m choosing to believe in your integrity. I won’t open a formal complaint as long as you don’t give me a reason to change my mind. I expect you both to behave in a professional manner while Dr. Hayes finishes the last few days of his rotation. Is that understood?”
No formal complaint.
My lungs widened by a margin. “Crystal clear,” I said, just as Finn nodded almost too quickly, relief thick in his voice.
“Of course, yes.”
“Good. Prove me right.” She studied us for a second the way she might assess a particularly tricky procedure—making micro-adjustments in her head, correcting assumptions. Then she slid Finn a look that was friendly but firm. “Dr. Hayes, I think that’s all for now. I’d like to talk to Dr. Maddox alone, please.”
His chin tipped up, spine straight as he turned to me. “D’you want me to stay?”
