Chapter 6
Adrian
I pull into a spot for staff at the hospital. I don’t have a permit, no special pass allowing me to be here, but I park anyway.
Stepping out of the car, I inhale sharply, trying to steady the knots twisting in my gut. Keith isn’t here. I don’t have the comfort of his presence beside me, his easy confidence to lean on. It’s just me today, and that thought weighs heavily on me.
This hospital isn’t the towering skyscraper I’m used to.
No glass windows reflecting the city skyline.
Instead, it’s a long, single-story brown brick building, stretching wide rather than high.
It’s different. And yet, as I glance toward the entrance, I know that behind those walls, everything will be the same: sterile hallways, scent of antiseptic, the sound of machines.
And the people? Will they be the same too? Will they whisper? Will they care?
I shove a hand into my pocket, and my fingers graze the cool metal of my keys before clenching into a fist. My other hand grips the handle of my briefcase, damp from my sweaty palm.
It used to be my dad’s when he was a doctor, so the leather is scuffed, edges worn, and the latch sticks if you don’t press it just right.
I didn’t know what to bring, so I packed my laptop, a stethoscope…
things that make me feel like I have some control over the unknown.
Being the new guy again sucks. But there’s no turning back now.
I’ve spent years working in the same hospital, surrounded by familiar faces, routines that I could navigate in my sleep. But here? I’m starting over. The feeling is foreign and unsettling, stirring up old memories I’d rather leave buried.
As I push through the entrance decorated with autumn wreaths and paper turkeys, heat greets me, a huge difference to the cool morning outside.
The front desk is manned by a receptionist, a woman in her forties with short blonde hair and blue framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
She glances up as I approach, scanning me…
probably taking in my suit, the briefcase, the slight pause in my step.
Straightening my shoulders, I clear my throat.
“Hi, I’m here to see Anita Smith. I’m Dr. Pierce.”
Despite her name on her badge, she introduces herself, offering a polite nod. “Good morning. I’m Nina. Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes.”
“Alright.” She smiles and gestures down the hallway to the right. “Follow this corridor straight down. There are plenty of signs.”
I hesitate for half a second, waiting to see if she’s going to call ahead to warn Anita that I’m coming. But she doesn’t reach for the phone, so I just nod. “Thanks.”
As I walk away, my grip tightens around my briefcase, my fingers slick. The material threatens to slip from my grasp, and I adjust my hold. The suit feels too stiff, too formal. I don’t belong here yet.
My appointment isn’t until nine, and I’m a little early.
I slow my steps, taking in the space around me.
The hospital is small, almost cozy, compared to what I’m used to.
The waiting room, visible through an open doorway, has worn but comfortable blue chairs, a coffee machine humming in the corner. It’s strangely reassuring.
Everything feels familiar. And yet, I’m the only thing out of place.
Finally, I reach her office, the nameplate confirming it.
I take a big breath, pressing my lips together.
I know she’s aware of my dismissal, but I wonder if she’ll treat me differently because of it?
I raise my hand and knock; my pulse thrums in my ears, matching the beat of my hand against the wood.
“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.
Here goes nothing.
I twist the handle and push the door open. The office is compact but cluttered, bookshelves lining the walls, filled with medical textbooks, binders, and what looks like a few personal trinkets. A large desk sits at the center, and behind it, Anita rises to her feet.
She’s dressed in a deep purple blouse, her hair pulled back in a neat bun. There’s a warmth in her expression as she steps around the desk, hand extended.
“Dr. Pierce, it’s lovely to meet you.”
I shift my briefcase to my other hand, wiping my palm against my pants, hoping she doesn’t notice. Then I reach out and shake hers. Her handshake is firm and confident without an ounce of stiff formality. She smiles, genuinely. I’m not sure what to do with that.
“Take a seat, Dr. Pierce.”
“Please, call me Adrian.” The title feels heavy, dragging up memories I’m trying to leave behind. “Dr. Pierce is… Just Adrian is fine.”
“Fair enough.” She settles back into her chair, still smiling. “I’m really happy you’re here. Keith’s been excited about your arrival, and we’re lucky to have you for the year.”
Unsure how to respond to that, I nod.
“Obviously, if Keith’s practice is up and running before the year’s up, you’re not locked in. We’d be happy to let you out of the contract.”
“Really?” I’m relieved. I hadn’t considered that possibility. I’m so used to contracts, so this kind of flexibility feels almost too good to be true.
She nods. “Keith needs the help, and we’re a close community. We look out for each other. If things wrap up early and you want to move on, we’ll work something out.”
I exhale, tension easing just a little. “I appreciate that.”
Keith’s practice didn’t make me feel… this anxious. Even just touring the building, it felt welcoming, a place where I might find some footing. But being here, with familiar hospital sounds and smells, has my past pressing in from all angles. But I can do this. I can make it through a year.
Redeem myself. Set myself up for a fresh start, a different future.
Anita rises, grabbing a sheet of paper. “Before we start the tour, I just need to give you your work email address. It’s linked to the hospital’s bulletin system, a kind of hospital pulse point. Keeps you in the loop.”
She chuckles to herself at the reference to Pulse Point, the town, and I find myself smiling.
Maybe this won’t be so bad.
I take the paper, glancing over the printed details of passwords, logins, basic information. It’s routine, but it feels like the first real step into this new life.
“Alright,” she says, standing. “Let’s get started.”
I follow her out the door, preparing myself for the moment I meet my colleagues.
“I don’t think you’ll get too lost, but everyone here will help you.” We turn left, and she gestures toward a section of the ward. “This is the trauma unit.”
That’s where I first entered the hospital from… the emergency waiting room. The receptionist doesn’t notice us, too busy talking to a family that’s just entered.
There are only two things that are different from the city. It’s a much smaller scale, with no research center but they’ve got most of the same equipment for basic emergencies, which relieves me.
She walks me through the hospital, pointing out the pediatric wing, trauma, orthopedics, and other wards before we finally arrive at the medical floor… my new home base.
At the central desk, a few nurses are huddled together, whispering.
Their gazes flick toward me, probably gossiping.
I hate it. I just want to settle in, to stop being the center of attention.
I bet they’ve all seen the article. My name in bold.
The piece Miss Amelia wrote about me haunting me even here.
“Okay, let me show you a room on the ward. This is where you’ll mainly be.”
She leads me down a hallway lined with doors, some open and some closed. “These are the patient rooms. Some have two beds, some have four. That one is for infectious diseases or for VIP patients.”
“VIP patients?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. In this town, who gets special treatment?
“The receptionist will sort that out. You won’t need to worry about it.”
Sure. Except for the number of beds, the rooms all look the same…
hospital beds, bedside tables, chairs, oxygen masks, dull white walls.
But the view from the windows is different.
Instead of city buildings looming outside, there’s greenery.
That’s something, at least. A better view for patients to recover with.
I meet a couple of nurses, Jacalyn and Matty, who greet me politely as they walk by, and another doctor, Rowan. He barely acknowledges me, just a curt nod before hurrying off. He seems busy, and that’s fine by me. The less attention, the better.
“All right, let me show you your office.”
I’m excited to be finished with the tour.
“Lockers are in the break room where you can keep your clothes. You’re welcome to wear scrubs every day; you don’t have to wear a suit. There are fresh scrubs outside the bathroom, so you can shower, change, whatever works for you.”
I nod, appreciating her effort to make things easier.
As she shows me the room, I tuck my briefcase away under the desk, which makes it feel more permanent.
She smiles. “Go familiarize yourself with the medical ward, and I’ll check in with you in a few hours.
You’re not expected to do much today, but if you want to get started, the option’s there.
Tomorrow’s your first real shift. Seven a.m.”
When she leaves, my nerves spike. She grew on me… her easy personality. And now, I’m alone again.
I step out, heading to the reception desk on the medical floor. A woman behind the counter hands me a lanyard with a hospital ID badge holder.
“This will get you into all the secured areas, med rooms, ORs, your office, staff lounges, all of it,” she says. “I just need to take your photo for the badge.”
I nod and follow her instructions. Once the photo’s done and she clips it into the holder, I ask, “Is there anything else I should know?”
“Well, I work mornings here, and another woman, Adelaide, covers the afternoons.”
“Got it.”
“The head nurse will help you with notes if you need it. She’ll follow you, update you on patients, and answer questions.”