Walking back into St. Catherine's Hospital felt like walking into a life I'd already died in.
Same fluorescent lights. Same squeaky linoleum. Same smell of antiseptic and burnt coffee and the particular desperation that only existed in a county hospital at seven in the morning. My scrubs still fit. My ID badge still worked. Everything was exactly where I'd left it two weeks ago.
Everything except me.
"Avery? Oh my God."
Maria Reyes descended on me before I made it ten feet past the nurses' station. Five-foot-nothing of condensed Cuban energy, the best phlebotomist in the county, and the closest thing I'd had to a friend in four years.
"Where the hell have you been? You disappeared. No calls. No texts. HR has been asking questions. Dr. Chen filed a missing person report before someone
