The moment I stepped into the hospital, I knew it was going to be one of those days, the kind where time loses meaning and every second bleeds into the next. The air was heavy with the scent of antiseptic and coffee, monitors were already wailing somewhere down the corridor, and the overhead intercom barked out names like it was on a caffeine high. I barely had time to clock in before a fellow nurse grabbed my arm and muttered, "OR needs you, it an emergency case and they're short."
There was no surprise there. They were always short, budget cuts, staff quitting, too many patients and not enough hands, but I'd gotten used to it. You don't stay in this line of work unless you've made peace with chaos. I tossed my bag in the locker, yanked on my scrubs, and was pulling my hair back before I even got my gloves on.
The emergency appendectomy was already prepped when I got in. Dr. Kayla stood at the sink, her eyes flicking over to me as I entered.
