Chapter 62

The holiday ended, and Vivian Laurent returned to the hospital.

The outpatient hall was still overcrowded. Nathan Clementson had posted a notice at the registration desk: "Dr. Laurent only treats complex medical cases. Please see other specialists for common conditions."

The Chloe Ashcroft incident had been settled. Though she avoided prison, her medical license was permanently revoked.

"The Ashcrofts really went all out this time. Rumor has it they paid the victim's family eight figures."

"Those three kids will have their education and weddings covered now."

Colleagues continued whispering in the break room.

Vivian walked past with her coffee, expression neutral as she returned to her station.

"Dr. Laurent, do you think the family made the right choice?" someone couldn't resist asking.

She adjusted her stethoscope. "The living must move forward."

Without another word, she headed to the operating room. Three high-risk surgeries were scheduled today—all arranged by Nathan.

By the time the last surgery ended, city lights glittered outside.

Vivian had just changed out of her scrubs when the ER delivered a critical car crash victim. Without hesitation, she pulled her gloves back on.

The next morning, Nathan studied her pale face. "Should we reschedule today's surgeries?"

She splashed cold water on her cheeks. "The patients can't wait."

For three straight days, the OR doors swung open and shut. When Vivian finally emerged again, her fingers trembled slightly.

"Vivian!"

She turned to see Ethan Roscente at the end of the hallway.

"Yes?" Exhaustion weighed her voice.

"Stitch removal." He stepped closer. "I heard you haven't rested in days."

What was supposed to be a routine checkup became concerning when nurses mentioned Vivian hadn't stopped working for 72 hours.

"My hands are shaking. I can't do it now." She stated the truth.

"Another doctor already handled it." His gaze lingered on the dark circles under her eyes. "Let me drive you home."

She opened her mouth to refuse.

Ethan jingled his keys. "Driving fatigued is illegal. Even if you don't give me your address, I'll find it."

That convinced her. She gave a neighborhood name and trudged toward the elevator.

He caught up just before the doors closed, slipping in beside her.