DASHIELL
Immediately I stepped out of the conference room, I was suddenly bombarded by two people.
"Hey, new guy!" a cheerful voice called.
I barely had time to turn before a short, energetic man with dark hair and a wide grin stepped right into my space. He stuck out his hand like we were old friends.
"Dr. Leo Patel, second-year resident. But everyone just calls me Leo. Welcome to the madhouse!"
Behind him stood a calm woman in navy scrubs, arms crossed, watching with a small, knowing smile. She had warm brown skin, black hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and the kind of eyes that made you feel like she'd already seen everything.
"And I'm Sarah Morales," she said, extending her hand more gently. "Senior Nurse Practitioner. But please call me Sari. Everyone does."
I shook both their hands, still trying to catch my breath from the case review. My heart was still racing from Alexander's stare across the table, and now this sudden rush of new faces made my head spin a little.
"Hi," I said. "Dashielle Harper. Nice to meet you both… again?"
Leo laughed. "Yeah, we were in the room earlier. You killed that presentation, by the way. Dr. Astor's questions are brutal, and you didn't even flinch."
Sari gave Leo a look. "Don't scare him on day one."
"I'm not scaring him! I'm complimenting him!"
I managed a small smile. "Thanks. It was… intense."
Sari tilted her head. "You did good. Most new attendings freeze when the Chief of CT starts grilling them. You held your ground."
Leo nodded fast. "Seriously. He's like a human lie detector. If you mess up even one detail, he notices. But you? Smooth."
I felt my cheeks warm. "I just tried to stick to the facts."
"That's exactly what he respects," Sari said. "Come on let's get some coffee in you before your next consult. You look like you need it."
They started walking toward the staff lounge, and I followed, grateful for the distraction.
"So," Leo said, falling into step beside me, "first impressions of Astor Health? Terrifying? Amazing? Both?"
I hesitated. "Both, I think. It's… different from my old hospital."
Sari glanced at me sideways. "Different how?"
I shrugged. "Um… nothing much. I'm not just used to people staring."
Leo snorted. "That's because you walked in with the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery like he's your personal escort. Word spreads fast around here."
My face went hot again. "It wasn't like that."
Sari raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "People talk. They'll get bored in a week. Just do your job and they'll move on."
Leo leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing hospital gossip. "But we'd be liars if we said we're not curious about how you know Dr. Astor."
Sari nodded. I stayed quiet for a few seconds as we reached the lounge. Sari moved to the coffee machine and started making a cup.
"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it," she said gently.
"Butttt we are really curious," Leo continued, grinning. "I mean, it's Dr. Astor. We've never seen him with anyone in the hospital aside from his patients. And that's only because of his… cold personality." He whispered the last part, eyes wide like he was telling a secret.
Sari rolled her eyes at him but didn't disagree.
"Darling, how do you like your coffee?" she asked me.
"Just black, thank you so much," I said.
She nodded and handed me the cup. I turned back to Leo.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I already knew what he meant. I'd lived one day with Alexander and I understood exactly what "cold personality" looked like. He was walking ice.
Leo's brow shot up. "Woah… so you don't know?"
I frowned. "Know what?"
Leo and Sari exchanged a quick look, the kind that made my stomach twist.
Leo leaned in again, voice even lower.
"You see… the reason Dr. Astor is the way he is… is because he's diagnosed with psychopathy."
The word landed like a stone at the pit of my stomach.
I blinked.
"Psychopathy?" I repeated softly.
Sari nodded slowly. "Antisocial Personality Disorder with strong psychopathic features. It's not a secret around here. The whole hospital knows. He's high-functioning, a brilliant surgeon, and never makes mistakes in the OR but… yeah. No empathy, remorse or real emotions. People stay away because they're scared he'll snap one day or worse."
Leo shrugged. "He hasn't yet. But everyone treats him like he's a ticking bomb."
I stared at my coffee cup.
Everything clicked into place.
Bianca saying he was a psychopath.
His flat "No" when I asked if he'd help family.
The way he looked at me, not angry, not kind, just… empty.
The way he walked in on me naked and didn't even blink or apologise.
It wasn't an act.
It was real.
My hands felt cold around the warm cup.
Leo noticed. "You okay?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just… surprised."
Sari touched my arm lightly. "It's fine though, he's really professional but just make sure you don't get on his bad side but not like ever shows any side."
Before I could answer, a loud overhead page cut through the lounge.
"Code Blue, Pediatric ICU, Bed 12. Code Blue, Pediatric ICU, Bed 12. All available personnel respond."
Sari and Leo straightened instantly.
"That's us," Sari said. "Come on, Dashielle. You're with us."
They hurried out. Leo gave me a quick grin over his shoulder. "Welcome to the chaos!"
I followed, coffee forgotten on the counter.
The day had just started.
And already I felt like I was drowning.
*****
My first real case was the six-year-old boy from the morning conference.
He was still in the hospital, post-cardiac surgery complications had kept him admitted. Bed 8 in the Pediatric ICU step-down unit. His name was Mateo.
I stood next to his bed, chart in hand, watching his small chest rise and fall under the thin blanket. Monitors beeped steadily. IV lines snaked from his arm. His parents, a tired-looking mom with dark circles and a dad holding her hand sat on the other side.
I introduced myself softly. "Hi, I'm Dr. Harper. I'm the new pediatric neurologist taking over Mateo's seizure care."
The mom looked up, eyes red. "Thank you for coming. He's been seizing more today."
I nodded. "I read the notes. Can you tell me exactly what the seizures look like? From the beginning?"
The dad spoke first. "They started last week. His eyes roll back, arms stiffen, then he shakes for about a minute. Afterwards, he's sleepy."
I wrote it down. "And before the shaking, does he cry out? Stare? Lose track of what's happening?"
The mom shook her head. "No crying out. Just… staring. Then stiff. Then shaking."
I looked at Mateo. He was asleep now, his round face peaceful.
I asked gently, "Has he had any falls recently? Before the heart surgery? Any bumps to the head?"
The parents exchanged a quick look.
"No," the dad said. "Nothing like that."
I nodded slowly.
But something wasn't adding up.
The timeline.
The staring before stiffening.
The way the mom's eyes darted away when I asked about falls.
In the conference room, everyone had focused on post-surgical hypoxia or infection.
But the history felt… off.
I didn't say anything yet.
I just smiled at the parents. "Thank you. I'm going to review everything and talk to the team. We'll figure this out."
They nodded, looking hopeful.
I stepped out of the room.
My mind was already turning.
The seizures didn't fit perfectly with post-op hypoxia. They fit better with something else.
Something earlier.
Something the parents weren't saying.