The cafeteria was nearly empty by the time Elena slipped inside. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, washing the space in a pale glow that made the stainless-steel counters look sterile and unwelcoming. The smell of burnt coffee clung to the air, sharp enough to cut through the faint sweetness of pastries gone cold in their glass case.
Elena cupped the paper mug between her hands, letting the heat soak into her palms. It was the only warmth she felt. Around her, the room was quiet—just two interns arguing over notes at the far end, and a janitor pushing a mop bucket along the tiles. The ordinary murmur of life went on, steady, oblivious.
Across from her, Catherine White sat down with the kind of ease that came from a life rooted in certainty. Her blouse was a pale cream tucked neatly
