Stacy stood by the supply cart, double checking the vitals chart she’d just filled in. Her fingers trembled slightly...more from nerves than cold. The trauma ward was unlike any other floor she’d worked on during training. There was a tension in the air that felt permanent, like the walls themselves had absorbed every life or death moment and refused to let them go.

  She heard his footsteps before she saw him.

  Kalil.

  Dr. Kalil Rahman, in his pristine navy scrubs and that same white coat, now finally on. He walked like the floor should clear for him. Like the world should pause to listen. And maybe it did, because every nurse and intern suddenly became quieter, more efficient, as he passed by. Stacy kept her head down, pretending to focus on her clipboard.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “You missed a line,” his voice came from just behind her.

  She blinked, looked up. “Sorry?”

  Kalil was staring at the chart in her hands, not her. “BP. It’s not recorded. Either your observation was incomplete, or your documentation was.”

  Stacy’s mouth parted slightly. “Oh,I… I was about to update it. The patient was talking to his wife, I didn’t want to interrupt...”

  “Interrupt,” he repeated, then looked at her for the first time that morning. “You’re not here to make friends. You’re here to learn. To act. Not to observe people’s emotions like a social worker.”

  His words weren’t cruel. Just… void of feeling. Delivered so coldly she felt a chill crawl up her neck.“I understand,” she said quietly, willing her voice not to crack.

  He held her gaze for a second too long. There was something unreadable in his eyes like he was looking straight through her. Then, just like that, he turned away and walked off, his clipboard tucked under one arm.

  Stacy let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

  What was his problem?

  And why did his eyes look like they carried stories no one had ever heard?