Beeping.
That was all she heard — soft, rhythmic, distant. It pulsed through the darkness like a heartbeat far away, calling her name through a tunnel she couldn't escape.
"Elena… Dr. Sterling, can you hear me?"
The voices were blurred. The light was too bright to open her eyes. Every part of her body felt heavy, as if gravity had doubled its hold. She wanted to speak, but her lips wouldn't move.
So she drifted — down, deeper — until the sound of the hospital faded, replaced by another sound entirely.
Laughter.
Familiar. Younger.
Suddenly, she was nineteen again, standing in the courtyard of Kingsley Medical University, a stack of textbooks pressed to her chest and the scent of rain in the air.
---
Her early years in medical school had been nothing like she'd imagined. She was brilliant, yes — her professors said so often — but brilliance didn't quiet the loneliness that came from having no one to share it with.
While her classmates bonded over study groups and late-night takeout, Elena worked part-time in the campus clinic, volunteering for extra hours. She said it was for experience, but deep down, it was to keep her mind from wandering to the emptiness she left behind at home.
The years passed in quiet determination. She rarely went to parties, rarely smiled in pictures, but she was there — always at the top of the class, the girl with the calm eyes and unreadable thoughts.
Then came him.
Ethan Hayes — the confident, charming student who walked into her cardiology rotation like he'd been born to lead it. Everyone liked him immediately. His laughter filled every space, his kindness drew people close. He was the kind of person Elena admired from a distance — safe behind the invisible wall she'd built around her heart.
He noticed her once, during a late-night shift at the lab.
"You're always here," he'd said, setting down his coffee.
"So are you," she'd replied softly, without looking up.
He smiled. "Maybe we're both running from something."
She didn't answer, but something in her chest shifted that night.
For a while, she let herself imagine that maybe — just maybe — someone could see her.
---
The memory changed suddenly — like a film reel spinning too fast. The courtyard dissolved into a sea of faces, bright gowns, and flashing cameras. It was graduation day.
Elena stood among her classmates, the sun warm on her shoulders. She'd made it. Against every doubt, every cruel word, every night she'd cried into her textbooks — she'd made it.
Her name was called:
> " Elena Sterling — Congratulations"
Applause echoed. She walked across the stage, her heart pounding with pride, but as she turned her tassel, her eyes caught a familiar figure in the crowd.
Her father.
And beside him — Camilla.
He hadn't come for her. She knew it the moment she saw the way he looked at Camilla, pride shining in his eyes as if she were the only one who mattered. Both of them wore identical smiles — perfectly polished for the cameras.
Elena froze for a heartbeat. She hadn't expected him to come at all. But part of her, foolishly, had hoped.
When the ceremony ended, she gathered her courage and approached him.
"Dad." Her voice trembled slightly. "You came."
Richard Sterling turned, eyes sharp. "Of course I came. It's a big day for Camilla."
The words stung, but she swallowed the pain. "I graduated too."
He raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "I know. Congratulations, Elena." He said it the same way he might acknowledge the weather — distant, impersonal.
Camilla chuckled, stepping closer. "Don't take it personally, sister. Some of us just shine brighter."
Elena's chest tightened. "It's not a competition, Camilla."
"Everything's a competition," Camilla said sweetly. "You just happen to lose most of them."
The words dug deep, slicing through years of quiet endurance. For a second, Elena saw herself — her younger self — wanting to shout, to fight, to demand love she knew she'd never get.
But then her mother's voice echoed in her mind.
> Promise me you'll grow into someone kind. Don't let this house turn your heart cold.
She took a slow breath and stepped back. "You're right," she said softly. "Maybe I do lose — but at least I don't forget who I am."
Camilla's smile faltered for just a moment, and that was enough. Elena turned to walk away — but as she did, her gaze caught Ethan across the courtyard.
He was talking to Camilla. Laughing. The same warmth that once drew Elena close now belonged to someone else — her sister, of all people.
Elena's heart cracked quietly, the pain raw and sudden. She looked down, forcing her steps to remain steady. She wouldn't cry — not here, not in front of them.
"Congratulations, Doctor Sterling," someone called behind her.
She smiled faintly, though no one saw it. "Thank you," she whispered. But she wasn't sure which version of herself they were congratulating — the doctor or the girl still fighting to be seen.
---
The memory dissolved into white light again. The graduation gown melted away, replaced by hospital beeps and the soft hiss of oxygen.
"Elena…"
She tried to open her eyes, but they felt sealed shut. The voices around her grew clearer now.
"She's still unconscious," someone said. "Vitals are stable, but she hasn't woken up since the collapse."
"She pushed herself too hard," another voice replied. "That surgery — it broke her."
Broke her.
The words echoed inside her mind, bouncing between memory and reality. The night they called her a hero — the night she lost a patient.
She remembered the blood, the chaos, the silence that followed. She remembered the way her hands shook as the monitor went flat. She remembered trying to breathe and realizing she couldn't.
And now she lay still, her body refusing to wake, her spirit wandering through memories she never had time to face.
Somewhere, in the depth of her unconsciousness, she felt her mother's voice again — soft, distant, warm.
> "You can't save everyone, my love. But you can still save yourself."
Tears gathered beneath her closed eyes. She wanted to answer. To say she didn't know how.
Outside, the doctors checked her monitors again. "Still no response."
But inside the darkness, Elena's heart whispered back.
> "I'm trying, Mom. I'm trying."