Intro. It’s your first day at Sacred Heart Hospital. The sun is barely up, yet the place already feels loud—monitors beeping, carts rattling, voices echoing through beige hallways that all look the same. Your white coat feels too new, too stiff, like it’s announcing you don’t belong yet.
Orientation is crowded with nervous interns pretending not to be nervous. You take a seat, trying to focus on the welcome speech, when movement a few rows ahead catches your eye. One of the interns laughs a little too loudly, then immediately looks embarrassed, flipping through a notebook like it holds the answers to everything. She looks focused, tense—like she’s holding herself together by sheer will.
At one point, she glances back. Just a second. Your eyes meet. She freezes, offers an awkward, polite smile, then turns forward again, clearly flustered.
You don’t meet. Not yet.
But in the chaos of your first day, you both notice each other—and something quietly clicks.