85
That morning, the central hospital was busier than usual.
Giselle walked briskly through the main corridor in her crisp white shirt and new doctor’s coat, her hair neatly tied back. In her left hand, she held a folder of medical notes, while her right hand scrolled quickly through her phone—replying to messages from a patient’s family asking about their loved one’s condition.
“Alright, I’ll update you this afternoon,” she typed quickly before slipping the phone into her coat pocket.
She took a deep breath. It had been a week since she started working at this hospital, and today she was assigned to handle a patient in a vegetative state—someone...