Val surfaces at the hospital

By that afternoon Valeria was tired of it all - the **** kindness and concern, constantly trying to comfort people and meet their expectations. Another patient came in, a middle-aged man with chronic back pain who’d been through three MRIs and refused physical therapy. Normally, she’d murmur sympathy, adjust his medication, gently urge compliance.

But today… today, Val’s voice slid out before she could stop it.

“Mr. Keller, if you’re here expecting another prescription so you can sit on your ass all day, you’re wasting both our time.”

The silence that followed was thick and delicious. He blinked at her, mouth working like a fish.

“I—uh—”

She leaned forward, elbows on her desk, letting the red slash of her lips curve into a faint smile. “You’ve been given every opportunity to get better. You choose not to. That’s fine. But don’t insult my time pretending otherwise.”

His face reddened. She didn’t soften. In fact, she watched him squirm and found herself savoring it—like savoring a perfectly cooked bite you let dissolve on your tongue.

By the time he mumbled something about “thinking it over” and left, she felt electrified.

The next encounter came in the hallway. A nurse called after her—someone Valeria normally liked—asking if she could squeeze in a late add-on before leaving for the day.

“No,” Val said flatly without breaking stride. “If they can’t bother to show up on time, they can wait like everyone else.”

It wasn’t until she stepped into the break room and caught her reflection in the vending machine glass that she noticed her smirk. It was the same one Chase had described—sharp, mocking, unapologetic.

She didn’t wipe it away.

When her phone buzzed, it was a text from Chase:

How’s my Val today?

She typed back without hesitation.

Alive.