Maddie

I've only been back in Los Angeles for two hours, and I had to drive straight to work. Not that I had any room to complain. I just started here, and my boss didn't have to give me the time off to visit my nephew. When I received the call this morning that they needed help, I felt like I couldn't refuse.

Thankfully, Nina was on duty today. Well, I'm not sure how thankful I am considering the situation that occurred between her and Cameron, but until I'm there to inspect things myself, I can't focus on that today. Right now, there's a sick little girl in need of my care, and she takes precedence over trying to figure out if my nanny is flirting with my husband.

Sliding on my shorter white coat, which labels me a student, I shove my things into a locker, ensuring my pager is turned on and connected to my scrubs, and dart out into the pediatric unit where my resident stands at the end of the hall with a clipboard for our morning rounds. "You're late," the tall, curly-haired woman says with disapproval. I don't think she realizes I was called in and I got here as fast as I could, but I know better than to fight her on it.

Melinda is a tough woman who is feared by most of the interns. In her mid-thirties, she's gearing up for her boards, which has her on edge more than usual. At least, that's what the other interns have shared with me in the short amount of time I've worked here.

"I'm sorry," I say instead.

Her gaze lingers on mine a beat too long before she jerks her chin to the other four interns standing in a circle. They scurry off, scared to piss her off, but I don't shrink back from her stare when she presses closer, holding the clipboard closer to her chest. "You're watching Carley Sheffield today," she explains. "She was admitted last night presenting symptoms of nausea, fatigue, and decreased urine production. Carley is a frequent patient of ours. She's been on a waiting list for a kidney transplant for six months now, and if no one else has told you, she's a very important patient. She means a lot to the staff here."

Working in the medical field, it's ingrained in us not to become too attached to any patient, but I know as well as anyone that there are patients who tend to slip through the cracks, capturing our hearts regardless of whether we want them to or not. Carley's name has been brought up a few times, and although I've never met her, I'm honored that Melinda trusts me enough to be the intern on her case.

"If anything goes wrong," Melinda warns, tapping her clipboard with a pen, "you page me. Immediately. Her fever spikes? You page me. She vomits? You page me. Do you understand?"

"Understood," I respond firmly.

"Perfect. She's in room nine." With another lingering stare, Melinda disappears down the hall, more than likely to catch a few hours of sleep while I gear up for a long shift.

The morning in a hospital during shift change is always the busiest. Doctors and nurses are leaving for the day while others are bustling by with cups of coffee starting theirs. I already texted Cameron when I landed explaining that I had to go to work, but he has to practice all day today regardless, so it's not like we'd be missing time away from each other. Izzy, however, hasn't seen me in four days, either. I'm itching to spend time with her.

Pausing outside of Carley's room, I send a text to Nina for an update on how my daughter is doing before I knock softly on the door and enter the room.

I freeze when my eyes land on Tre, who is currently hovering at Carley's bedside taking her blood pressure. We work in the same unit, so I knew there was a possibility he'd be a nurse on one of my cases. I guess that day is going to be today.

He glances over his shoulder, mouth quirking up. "Hey, Maddie. Good to see you."

"Hi," I reply, striding over to the patient's bed. "I take it you must be Carley, hm? You're a favorite around here, so I've been told." I take the chart off her bed, scanning it over. Ten years old, and much too young to be dealing with kidney failure.

Carley is missing her front tooth, but she smiles widely anyway, a little giggle escaping her mouth. "I'm not that special," she admits.

"I beg to differ," Tre interjects. "You're the coolest ten-year-old I know." He sticks the thermometer into her mouth to take her temperature, and when she giggles harder, a genuine smile falls onto Tre's face. The sight makes my chest feel warm and fuzzy, but only because Tre seems to be doing better. He's on the right path, and that makes me genuinely happy for him.

"How are you feeling today?" I ask, bringing my attention back to the patient. "Does your stomach still hurt?"

She shakes her brown curly pigtails from side to side. "Nope."

My eyes stray to the Disney princess blanket she has sprawled on the hospital bed, to the countless coloring books, crayons, and stuffed animals lining the table beside it, and it's an effort to blink away my tears. Carley is the kind of little girl who has spent more of her time in a hospital than at home, and I can only imagine how her parents feel. Being a parent myself, I can't even imagine the amount of suffering they must go through seeing Carley battle this illness on a daily basis.

And although I miss the hell out of my daughter right now, I'm happy she's healthy and at home. Right now, I'm exactly where I need to be.

"Who's your favorite princess?" I point to her blanket, where a variety of them are on display.

"Belle," she gushes.

"Any particular reason why?"

"Because she likes to read books. I love books." Carley blinks up at Tre like he's the most gorgeous man she's ever seen. To be fair, Tre is an attractive man. He could be anyone's prince charming if he wanted to be, especially if he went through the therapy he needed to. "Tre read to me yesterday."

I arch a brow at Tre, but he ignores my gaze and fumbles with the tubes around Carley. "Well, after I talk with Nurse Tre outside for a few minutes, I'll come back in here and we can do whatever you'd like. Color... Read... The list is endless. Okay?"

Her brown eyes get brighter, filled with excitement. "Okay! I'll pick out some pictures for us to color."

Closing the door shut behind us, I follow Tre to the computer outside of her room and watch him begin to enter her vitals into her chart. "Where are her parents?" I ask.

With his eyes fixated on the screen, he replies, "They both work. It's not like this is her first hospital stay, you know? They're here every night with her. They sleep here. But the medical bills won't pay themselves."

I nod even as a bud of sadness blossoms in my chest. "I get it. Has she peed yet today?"

He shakes his head.

"But she's gotten her water pill?"

Leveling his stare on me, he arches a thick brow in my direction. "This isn't my first rodeo, Maddie. I do know how to give patients their medication. Yes, she's had her water pill."

My cheeks burn from his bluntness. Then again, I am treating him with the implication he doesn't know how to do his job. I respect the nurses, and I never want to become a doctor who is hated by them. If you're hated by the nurses? I shudder at the thought.

"Sorry. Melinda is on my ass to ensure everything goes perfectly today. That's all. My only job is to take care of Carley."

Tre chuckles. "Babysitting duty, eh? I bet you're fuming. I heard Tony gets to stand in on an appendectomy today."

Tony, another one of the interns, is an absolute dipshit. He's too arrogant, and sooner than later, he's going to make a grave mistake due to his ego. If Tony were placed on this case, he'd royally fuck it up. Carley would become so bored she'd want to rip her hair out by the time his shift was up.

"I'm exactly where I need to be," I tell him. "I think being a doctor is more than just life-altering surgeries. If you don't have a bedside manner, you don't have a career at all."

Tre pushes the keyboard back into the wall, still sporting that tiny side grin.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head as if he doesn't want to say it, but then he sighs and says, "You're going to be a great doctor, Maddie."

The compliment warms my heart, causing tears to prick into the backs of my eyes. There have been times throughout my education journey when I've thought I've been undeserving of bearing the title one day. Like having a blackmail video originating from a night out of mine, where I made the stupid decision to be reckless. Or when I switched my urine cup with a teenager at my old doctor's office to avoid the drug test, unaware they'd test for pregnancy. Granted, it came out weeks later that the test obviously was false and there was never a pregnancy to begin with, but still. It didn't make me feel any less guilty.

I'm not perfect, nor do I claim to be, but the one constant has always been my heart for others. My implicit need to help those in need. It feels good to hear I'm doing a good job, and I should compliment him back. I should tell him I'm proud of him, and that he's right where he needs to be, too, but all of those responses seem too flirtatious. I'm not sure anything would sound friendly when so much happened between us in the past.

Tre takes the hint, jabbing a thumb to the nurse's station. "I'll check back in on her in a few hours," he says, and then he leaves me alone with a bunch of words left unsaid.