Chapter Two
1723 Words
Anna Pov
I did not sleep well that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the hospital again,the bright white lights, the long hallways, and Dr. Leo Martin standing behind his desk, looking at me like he was trying to understand something he had not planned for.
You can start tomorrow.
The words echoed in my mind again and again. I was afraid that if I slept too deeply, I would wake up and realize it had all been a dream.
When my alarm rang, I sat up quickly. My heart was already racing.
“This is real,” I whispered.
I moved carefully, quietly, as if any sudden motion might break the moment. My room was small and cold, but I didn’t mind. I washed my face, brushed my hair, and chose my clothes with care. I wanted to look professional, but I also wanted to look like myself. I did not own expensive clothes. I chose a simple blouse and a clean skirt, then tied my hair back neatly.
I looked at myself in the mirror for a long moment.
“You belong there,” I told myself. “You worked for this.”
The hospital looked even bigger in the morning light. The glass doors reflected my nervous face as I stepped inside. Everything smelled clean,strong and sharp, like disinfectant and polish. People walked past me quickly, speaking in low voices, their steps confident and sure.
I felt like a small fish swimming into deep water.
At the staff desk, a woman checked my name and handed me a badge.
“Anna Moore,” she read aloud. “Temporary staff.”
Temporary.
The word stayed with me as I clipped the badge onto my blouse.
“You’ll be assisting today,” the woman said. “Follow instructions carefully.”
“I will,” I said.
As I turned to leave, I nearly collided with someone.
“Careful,” a sharp voice said.
I looked up.
The woman standing in front of me was beautiful in a way that felt intentional. Her hair was perfectly styled. Her makeup was flawless. Her white coat looked expensive, tailored to fit her body exactly. She did not look like she had ever worried about being late, or hungry, or unwanted.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly.
Her eyes moved over me slowly. Not curious but judging. From my shoes, to my clothes, to my face.
“You’re new,” she said, not asking.
“Yes,” I replied. “My name is Anna.”
She smiled slightly. “Sophie.”
There was something in her voice,confidence mixed with ownership. Like this place already belonged to her.
Before I could say anything else, another voice spoke.
“Sophie.”
I turned.
Dr. Leo Martin stood a few steps away. He looked exactly like he had the day before—calm, controlled, and distant. His white coat was spotless. His posture was straight. When he walked, people seemed to move aside without thinking.
Sophie’s expression changed instantly. Her sharpness melted into warmth.
“Good morning, Leo,” she said softly.
“Good morning,” he replied. His voice was polite but cool.
His eyes shifted to me. “You’re early.”
“I didn’t want to be late,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “Follow me.”
That was all.
I followed him down the hallway, aware of Sophie standing behind us. I didn’t look back, but I could feel her stare on my back. It made my shoulders tense.
Dr. Martin walked quickly. I struggled to keep up without looking like I was rushing.
“Today you’ll observe and assist,” he said. “You’ll learn how we operate here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ask questions when necessary,” he continued. “But do not interrupt procedures.”
“I understand.”
He stopped suddenly and turned to face me.
“You're nervous,” he said.
“Yes,” I admitted honestly.
“Good,” he replied. “Nervous people prepare.”
Then he walked away.
The day passed slowly and quickly at the same time.
I helped organize patient files, followed nurses during rounds, and assisted where I was allowed. The work was demanding, but familiar. Every task reminded me why I chose medicine. I forgot, for moments at a time, that I was afraid.
But Sophie never let me forget that I was an outsider.
She appeared whenever I felt a little too comfortable. She corrected me in front of others, even when I had done nothing wrong. She smiled sweetly while doing it, as if she were being helpful.
Once, in the hallway, she leaned close and whispered, “Try not to embarrass yourself.”
I pretended not to hear.
Later, while I was checking a chart, she stood beside me.
“You won’t last long here,” she said quietly.
I looked up at her. “Why do you say that?”
“This hospital isn’t for people like you,” she replied.
I wanted to ask what she meant by people like me, but I already knew.
People without money. Without connections.
Instead, I said nothing.
In the afternoon, I was asked to bring files to Dr. Martin’s office. My heart beat faster as I walked down the quiet hallway. I knocked softly.
“Come in,” his voice said.
He stood by the window, looking out at the city. Paris stretched beneath him, elegant and distant.
“You’re doing well,” he said without turning.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“Sophie mentioned you struggled this morning,” he added calmly.
My stomach tightened. “I asked for help once,” I said. “I learned quickly.”
He turned and looked at me.
“I trust what I see,” he said. “Not what I hear.”
Relief washed through me so strongly that my knees felt weak.
As I left his office, Sophie was waiting outside.
She smiled, but her eyes were cold.
“Be careful,” she said. “Leo doesn’t like distractions.”
“I’m here to work,” I replied.
She laughed softly. “Everyone says that.”
When my shift finally ended, I felt exhausted. My feet hurt. My head ached. But as I stepped outside into the cool evening air, something inside me felt lighter.
For the first time since arriving in Paris, I felt like I belonged somewhere,even if only temporarily.
I didn’t know how long I would last in this hospital.
But I knew one thing.
I was not leaving without a fight.
And Sophie knew it too.
- Writer
