The hospital buzzed with movement, footsteps echoing in hallways, the distant beep of machines blending with the low hum of voices.
Sophia moved through it all like a current beneath the surface—swift, direct, and never out of rhythm.
She had arrived early that morning, stepping out of her car in polished heels and an immaculately tailored coat.
Her dress was a beige blouse tucked, expensive and understated, cinched at the waist beneath the white of her lab coat. Not a strand of hair was out of place, her expression carved in cool porcelain.
By now, she'd already done a round with the new interns, answered half a dozen urgent messages, and completed back-to-back consultations.
Her tone had remained professional, precise, but her eyes were sharper today—distracted, almost.
She stepped into her office for a breather, closing the door with a quiet click. The space was sleek, everything in its place.
She walked straight to her desk, flipping through files left by Clara before she clocked out.
But her eyes kept drifting to her phone.
Not that she was waiting for anything. Or anyone.
Still, she picked it up once, then twice. No messages. No missed calls.
She set it down with a soft sigh.
Just work, she reminded herself. Nothing else. Focus.
She had a surgery in less than four hours, a short meeting with the Board before that, and a stack of reports to review. Everything was moving, as always. Efficient. Busy.
Yet in the middle of it all, her mind kept flickering back to that girl with the wide eyes and soft voice.
The way she'd tilted her head when curious. How her lips curved when she tried to hide a laugh.
The awkward way she'd tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, twice, as if unsure of herself.
Sophia blinked and shook the thought off like dust from her shoulder.
She glanced at the time. If she moved fast, she could squeeze in a brief coffee break before surgery.
Her heels clicked as she left the office again, lab coat swaying behind her.
The hallway buzzed quietly with footsteps and clipped voices, but Sophia moved through it like she owned every tile.
Her heels clicked with purpose, white coat pristine, a tablet in hand.
"Dr. Sophia," a nurse caught up beside her, walking briskly. "The orthopedic consult just finished in Ward C. The patient's asking if you could—"
"I'll be there in five," she said without looking up. "Any updates from ER?"
"Yes. Dr. Tami requested backup. They just brought in two trauma cases from a pile-up. No major bleeds but—"
"Vitals?"
"Stable for now. One's a boy—ten, maybe eleven—multiple fractures."
Sophia paused. "Call Pediatrics. Have someone from ortho prep for an external fixator, just in case. I'll scrub in after I finish with Ward C."
The nurse nodded, scribbling as she walked. "Anything else?"
"Keep Clara on standby. I know she left early, but if we get more in from that accident—call her."
"She's already back."
Sophia arched a brow. "Volunteered?"
"Didn't even change out of her civvies," the nurse grinned. "You're rubbing off on them, you know."
"I'm not trying to," Sophia muttered, and pushed the door to Ward C.
Inside, the orthopedic patient—a graying man with a braced leg—grunted as she walked in. "Finally. I was beginning to think you forgot me."
"I don't forget my cases," she said, pulling up his vitals. "Pain levels?"
"Like a horse kicked me. Twice."
She checked the chart, then lifted his sheets gently to examine the dressing.
"You've got clean margins," she said. "Which means, no infection—"
"Just pain."
"Which I can help manage."
He eyed her. "You always this serious?"
Sophia didn't answer. She adjusted his brace slightly, then made a note in her tablet. "You'll be scheduled for physio by next week."
As she left the room, her phone buzzed in her coat pocket. She ignored it. Buzzed again.
She pulled it out and frowned.
Stepmother: Are you free this evening? Your father wants you to meet someone. 8 PM. Don't be late, you already ruined your chances with Dr.Lane.
Sophia stared at the message, jaw tight. She didn't answer.
Another buzz.
And yes, this one was his idea. Not mine. You can ask him.
Sophia closed her eyes briefly, then locked the screen.
In the hallway, she caught Clara re-entering the ER, hair tied back in a hasty bun.
"You're back," Sophia said.
"I figured I would be," Clara shrugged. "Your expression this morning said we weren't done."
Sophia nodded, touched the side of her temple. "They keep pushing these dinners."
Clara raised a brow. "Another one again?"
"I'm supposed to meet some business associate's son tonight. My stepmother says it's my father's arrangement this time."
Clara scoffed. "Doesn't mean it's not her idea. You're going?"
Sophia gave a small sigh. "Apparently, I am."
"Do you ever just… say no?"
"I do. But this time, the lie was clever." She walked past Clara. "Page me if anything shifts in trauma.
I'll finish the pediatric consult, then go pretend to be interested in someone's idea of the perfect husband."
Clara called after her, "Try not to wear your death stare. You might actually scare the poor guy."
Sophia didn't look back. "That's the idea."