The Next Day. Medical Center. Emergency Room.
"Dr. Lewis, you sure you don't want to take a day off?" Adam asked kindly.
"No, I'm fine," Susan mumbled, keeping her head down so no one would notice her red, puffy eyes.
Adam sighed to himself. She's probably been crying all night.
"Dr. Lewis!"
"Dr. Duncan!"
The ER doors burst open as paramedics wheeled in two stretchers, one after the other. A nurse shouted their names.
"What's the situation?" Adam and Susan rushed over.
No surprise—it was another car accident. Thankfully, both drivers were alone. No heartbreaking cases of a whole family wiped out.
"Duncan, you take that one. I've got this," Susan directed.
"Got it," Adam agreed, pushing his stretcher into a treatment room to start emergency care.
Susan handled the other patient next door. Once Adam stabilized his patient and prepped them for surgery, a nurse's urgent voice called out from the other room.
"Dr. Duncan!"
A nurse poked her head in, waving him over. Adam told his team to take the patient to the OR and hurried next door. The monitors were blaring nonstop. Susan looked frazzled, almost frozen. Adam jumped in, taking over. After some intense work, he finally got the patient stable. Then he followed them to the surgical suite.
By the time he finished the operation, it was already noon. Heading to the cafeteria, he spotted Susan in the hallway, clearly waiting for someone.
Adam got it. She was waiting for him.
That emergency? Susan's usually on top of her game—should've been a breeze for her. But this time, she'd slipped up. If Adam hadn't stepped in, that patient might've been a goner. Her headspace was obviously a wreck.
"Adam," Susan said, hurrying over as he stepped out of the OR.
"Don't worry, the patient's fine," he said, knowing it's what she needed to hear most.
"Thank God," Susan breathed, leaning against the wall in relief.
"Dr. Lewis, seriously, why don't you head home and rest? Get your head straight before coming back," Adam suggested again.
"Yeah, yeah…" Susan trailed off. She knew what he wasn't saying—her being off her game could cost someone their life. For someone who cared so much about her patients, that hit hard. Combined with whatever was already eating at her, she agreed with her words but couldn't hold it together. She sank into a crouch, buried her face, and started sobbing.
A thirty-something woman, crying like a lost kid.
"Uh…" Adam's mouth twitched. He glanced left, then right, feeling stuck. Sure, he'd decided to keep some distance from Susan lately, but she'd been good to him before—always helping out, making things easier. Seeing her like this, walking away felt kinda cold.
"Dr. Lewis," he said gently, "is something bothering you?"
"No, nothing," she muttered into her hands.
"Oh." Adam hesitated, unsure if he should push or just leave.
Her sobs got louder.
Alright, fine.
"Is it about your sister?" he asked, leaning into the comforting role. Might as well repay her past kindness.
"Yeah," Susan admitted, wiping her tears. "I just don't know what to do about Chloe anymore…"
And then she spilled the whole story.
Last night, her sister had shown up asking for money—again. Susan's still drowning in med school loans. Residency pay sucks, and after covering loan payments, rent, and basics, there's barely anything left.
Even so, she's been sending Chloe $500 a month. Savings? Nonexistent. So this time, she said no.
She braced for Chloe to throw a fit, but—shocker—her sister didn't. Instead, Chloe played it cool, saying she had nowhere to stay and just needed a few weeks at Susan's place. Susan wasn't thrilled. She knows Chloe's a mess—her sketchy friends would turn the apartment into a dump.
Chloe backed off a bit, promising just a few days and no friends. Still, Susan resisted. Her place is tiny, and she's got her own life to live—having her sister around would cramp everything. But then Chloe hit her with the puppy-dog eyes, saying their parents kicked her out, she's homeless, and Susan's her only family left.
What could she do? Susan caved, set some ground rules, and handed over a spare key.
When she got home late after a long shift, she froze. The apartment looked like a tornado hit it. Even the TV mounted in her bedroom wall was ripped out and gone. Worse, a sentimental gift from her ex—the guy she almost married, a keepsake she treasured—was trashed. The box was smashed, tossed aside.
And there, smack in the middle of the chaos, was the key she'd given Chloe, like a taunting note: "Hey, sis, here's your key back. Lock up tight, don't forget!"
Susan collapsed, staring at her once-cozy, now-wrecked home, and cried all night. Chloe doesn't even have a phone—Susan couldn't even track her down to yell at her.
This wasn't the first time. Every time Susan starts healing, rebuilding her faith in life and family, Chloe swoops in, tears it all down, and the cycle repeats.
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"I think you should call the cops," Adam said after hearing it all. "That's straight-up breaking and entering."
"But she's my sister," Susan said, voice cracking. "I can't watch her go to jail."
"…" Adam didn't know what to say. Every family's got its baggage, right?
"Then just take some time off, rest up, and come back when you're steady," he said, keeping it neutral and swallowing his real thoughts. "You can't work like this."
Family's messy—outsiders don't get to judge. No matter how awful Chloe is, Susan's reaction told Adam he'd be an idiot to play the bad guy here.
"Thanks, I'm okay now," Susan said. After venting, she was already pulling herself together. She wiped her face, stood up, muttered a quick goodbye, and hurried off.
She's sharp—picked up on Adam's vibe right away. It reminded her of that ex she almost married. He'd started the same way—urging her to ditch Chloe. When she wouldn't, he got distant, then cold, then gone.
She'd studied some psychology herself; she knew it wasn't their fault. The smart move was cutting Chloe off for good. But every time her sister showed up, pulling the same old stunts, it dragged Susan back to those warm childhood memories—back when Chloe actually cared, when they were close. She's a totally different person now, but Susan can't let go of who she used to be.
(End of Chapter)