On the other side of the hospital complex, the woman who had just left the garden walked calmly through a long white corridor before entering her personal cabin. The room was simple but tidy, a small private office connected to the surgical department. A wide desk stood near the window, and a neat stack of medical documents waited there patiently.
She closed the door behind her and walked toward her chair with the same steady pace she always carried. Anyone who saw her now would think she had already forgotten the small scene in the garden. Her posture was calm, her movements controlled, exactly like the composed doctor everyone in the hospital knew.
She sat down slowly on the chair and pulled one of the documents toward herself.
There were still several files she needed to verify and sign before the afternoon rounds began. Normally she would read them carefully and finish them quickly. But today was slightly different.
