ALLE
Two days before Darius's surgery, I'm elbow-deep in equipment checks when Benedicta decides to make her presence known.
I smell her before I see her—that expensive perfume she wears, something floral and cloying that always makes my nose itch. My shoulders go tight, fingers stilling on the surgical clamp I'm testing.
"Well, well." Her voice drips false sweetness. "Playing doctor again, are we?"
I don't turn around. Just continue checking the clamp's tension, making sure it locks and releases smoothly. Dr. Patterson glances up from where she's organizing suture kits across the room, her expression shifting to something wary.
"If you're here to sabotage my equipment again," I say without looking at her, "I should warn you that there are cameras installed now."
A lie, but she doesn
