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MIA

I bite back tears the whole rest of my shift.

Despite my suspension, I knew I couldn’t just leave Gwen to scramble for a last-minute replacement. That’s what Adams never thinks about: that we are actually needed here. Might as well be the tagline for nurses everywhere.

First in line for the grunt work. Dead last for credit.

I’ve never cared about any of that—just seeing patients get better has always been enough for me.

But it makes rage coil tight in my gut that he thinks we’re this disposable. That he can just put my head on the chopping block and the ER won’t suffer for it.

By the time I’ve hung up my scrubs, I’ve turned my rage into purpose.

One month, unpaid . Before Yulian’s advance, it would have been unthinkable. I would have had to take out another loan just to survive, and what bank in its right mind would have given it to me?

But now, I can breathe a little easier. Sure, the anxiety of five years of food insecurity won’t disappear overnight, but at least I know I’ll survive. That Eli will survive. My boy will lack for nothing.

In the car, my hands tremble around my phone. I’ve wanted to text him all day, but haven’t had a single break.

Now, I’m hesitating.

What’s he gonna think? Worry crowds my mind, mixing with the anxiety I was already nursing. I don’t want to be the girl who only texts or calls when she’s in trouble. I’ve never needed a knight in shining armor to bail me out of my messes before.

But with Yulian…

With Yulian, it’s different. It isn’t about need—I want to call him. To share how my day went, the good parts and the shitty parts. Tell him he can stop sending Tamara over and invite him over instead.

He hasn’t replied to any of your texts. That simple truth burns on my fingertips. What does that tell you? That he’s been busy, or that he doesn’t want to get involved with you?

I have no clue what it tells me. Just that this is how Yulian has always been with me: warm one second, cold the next.

Does it drive me crazy? Yes. Capital Y, cherry on top.

But he was always there when I needed him. I can’t just forget that.

Finally, my fingers start typing. I channel all my courage into that simple gesture, try to find the words to start?—

“Drive.”

—and then feel a blade against my throat.