The fellowship program at the Loston Institute was far more high-pressure than I could have ever imagined.
Running on a non-stop loop of surgeries, ward rounds, and research symposiums from dawn till dusk completely drained me.
I didn't have any time to think about Julian, nor did I have the luxury of sitting around, healing my heartbreak.
Only in the dead of night, when the apartment was finally quiet, would I reach up to touch the small pendant resting against my collarbone. It held a tiny pinch of Buster's ashes.
"I'm doing great now, Buster. I hope you are, too," I whispered.
During my second month in Loston, I finally found a spare moment to log into my old work email.
The second the inbox refreshed, hundreds of unread emails flooded the screen like a blizzard.
Every singl
