❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
“It’s, um– Nice to meet you, Teddy,” Amelia replied, still trying to figure out the other woman’s demeanor. Biting down on her lower lip, she withdrew her hand, waving it toward the door. “Oh. Yeah, absolutely. I– We can get to know each other more later. Or not. It, um– Patients, yeah, go. Don’t let me keep you.”
Get it together, Amelia. Just because that was awk- ward, doesn’t mean you have to be. She turned her back, grabbing the tablet and beginning to jot down what had happened with the patient before she was paged for another.
As the day wore on, Teddy found herself increasingly distracted; already, she’d mixed up her patient charts and tore an intern a new one, all because she couldn’t get the thought of her debt off her mind.
She knew she couldn’t leave it the way she had if she were to sleep soundly that night — so when she came across Amelia again, it was with a smile in her eyes: “Sorry about this morning, Dr. Shepherd. I feel as though we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
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