A Midnight Demand, A Fake Emergency, And The Moment I Cut Them Off

above my dresser looked older than thirty-two. Dark hair rumpled, skin pale, eyes ringed with echoes of too many night shifts. But behind the exhaustion was something hard and bright and sharp.

I pulled on my navy scrubs—habit, not personality—and they settled over my shoulders like armor. I clipped my ID badge to my chest, the little plastic rectangle continue reading …