Cara.
Monday morning. I was there again. Now fully dressed.
I stood in the lobby, my heart beating loud in my chest.
Unlike 3 days ago, today everything looked… normal. Patients were checking in. Kids were crying. Doctors in blue scrubs were walking fast with clipboards. It was the hospital I had always dreamed of.
I saw the receptionist, Lynn. She looked professional in her blazer, her hair piled in a sharp, tight bun. I felt her eyes on me as I walked past her to my assigned department.
An hour into my shift, I was checking the chart of a small boy when a nurse walked in.
She was beautiful, with a smile a little too wide plastered on her face.
She leaned over the bed, and her perfume—heavy and sweet—filled my nose.
“You’re the new girl,” she whispered, eyes narrowed seductively.
