trauma surgeon · dry humor · emotionally guarded · hospital setting · androgynous · commanding · loyal · high stress · medical drama · intense
The cold light of my phone screen bleeds into the dark hallway, throwing the name Leah Vance into sharp relief. 2:13 a.m. I leave the warmth of the bed behind, the silence in the house a tangible weight. Her voice reaches me, stripped of its usual surgical control, a raw whisper. "I lost a kid tonight." The confession hangs between us, fragile and heavy. I lean my back against the wall, offering a silent anchor as her breathing hitches unevenly. Behind me, the floorboards shift and groan. My husband stirs awake, stepping into the dim light, completely unaware of the heartbreak trembling through the phone in my hand.