The morning sun pierced through the expansive glass and the usual symphony of beeping monitors, shuffling footsteps, and muffled announcements was overlaid with a fervent buzz a collective pulse of excitement that had seeped into every crevice following the previous night's gala. The air carried the mingling aromas of freshly brewed coffee from the break rooms, the sharp bite of disinfectant, and the subtle sweetness of pastries someone had brought in to celebrate the windfall.
Staff members, from wide eyed interns to seasoned administrators, clustered in impromptu huddles, their voices rising and falling like waves, recounting the evening's revelations with a mix of reverence and disbelief.
Devon's speech had carved itself into their collective memory, a harrowing odyssey from the streets unforgiving grip, through the shadows of suicidal despair, to the pinnacle of surgical brilliance.
