The next day.
At the medical center.
Emergency room.
"Caucasian male, gunshot wound to the left shoulder. Three dead on the scene, multiple injured. Five more victims are on their way."
An ambulance rolled up, and the paramedic rattled off the details fast.
"That's brutal—what happened?" a nurse couldn't help but ask.
"The shooter was a former employee of this restaurant. The casualties were all staff, plus an unlucky couple dining there who got caught in the crossfire," the paramedic explained.
"Did they catch the guy?" the nurse pressed.
"Nope."
The paramedic took off after that, and the news spread through the hospital like wildfire.
"Adam, I heard Princeton Teaching Hospital has a heart for Danny. Dr. Burke's heading out to get it?" Liz burst in, practically glowing with excitement.
"Yeah," Adam glanced at her and nodded. "He's pretty lucky."
"Pretty lucky? He's super lucky!" Liz beamed. "He's one of God's favorites!"
"Heh." Adam couldn't hold back a chuckle.
God's favorites? Even the Son of God had it rough sometimes—total nonsense.
"You don't agree?" Liz pouted, clearly annoyed.
"I'm laughing 'cause you've got nothing better to do, huh?" Adam dodged her question. "I heard the ER's packed. You're not pitching in?"
"Five patients came in—four are fine, but one died en route," Liz explained. "Meredith and the others can handle it."
"So four dead total?" Adam frowned.
"Yup," Liz nodded. "Word is the shooter was a fired employee. Got canned by the manager, came back for revenge, stormed in, and just started blasting. His real target—the manager—only took a shoulder hit. Guy was bragging earlier about how 'quick' and 'sharp' he was, dodging behind a cabinet the second he saw the shooter. Used to be an athlete or something."
"Neither of them are saints," Adam shook his head.
The manager, gloating while four were dead and four injured? You could guess what a jerk he was day-to-day—enough to spark this kind of tragedy over a firing. Adam could practically picture his smug little face. But compared to him, the shooter? Pure evil. Even if every coworker had it out for you, that random couple dining there didn't deserve it.
And sure, guns are everywhere in the U.S.—but it's relative. In rural backwoods, everyone's packing, some even with personal arsenals. In a big city like New York? Plenty of folks never touch a gun. Like Chandler and the gang—didn't even hold one 'til Phoebe dated a cop and they got curious. Someone who could grab a gun that easily and rack up a body count? Probably not a good guy to begin with.
"Mm-hmm," Liz nodded in agreement, then her eyes lit up. "Adam, Danny's surgery is coming up—he's getting a new heart! Can I tag along with you for his checkup?"
"Nope!" Adam shot her down without hesitation.
"Why not?" Liz's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Don't mess with Danny's zen," Adam said, giving her a look like a monk eyeing a temptress. "Until it's a done deal, how do you know this heart's a sure thing? Remember last time—how hyped he was, only to crash when it fell through?"
"This time it'll work!" Liz insisted, her gaze fierce.
"Stop!" Adam waved her off. "There's this thing called 'jinxing it' and another called 'setting yourself up to fail.' For Danny's sake, zip it."
"…" Liz glared at him, fuming, after he explained the terms.
"Actually, I've been wondering something," Adam said, seeing she wasn't budging. Time for the big guns. "Liz, what's really most important to you? Shouldn't it be your career? You've said it yourself—a girl from a trailer park, you clawed your way up. But the way you're acting? Doesn't match. Forget almost tanking your career over Danny—while Cristina and the others are grinding to improve their skills, what are you doing? And don't you dare say it's about love~"
Liz froze, stunned. Especially at that last line—Adam's tone and expression hit her like a truck, screaming: You ditched love back then, told others to do the same, didn't even care about family—do you even believe in it now?
"You jerk!" Liz trembled with rage, spat the words, covered her mouth, and stormed off.
In the ward:
"Ever since I started listening to you, Dr. Duncan, my luck's turned around," Danny said, grinning ear to ear.
"Don't get cocky," Adam warned. "We can't say for sure this'll pan out. Gotta be ready for the long haul—remember?"
"Who's got that kind of patience?" Danny gave a wry smile.
On the rooftop:
Dr. Burke grabbed the organ transport cooler and headed for the medical helicopter.
"Dr. Burke!" Liz chased after him. "Take me with you, please!"
Seeing him hesitate, she pleaded with puppy-dog eyes. "I'm begging you."
"Get in," Burke sighed, softer than Adam would've been.
At Princeton Teaching Hospital:
"Danny's luck is unreal—two hearts that match him at the same time!" Liz was buzzing with excitement.
Five minutes later:
"Patient's deceased. The heart's no good," Dr. Burke announced.
"No!" Liz let out a pained cry, then bolted for the next operating room, where another heart transplant was prepped.
"Stop!" she shouted at the female surgeon about to make the incision.
"What'd you say?" The doctor shot her a sideways glance.
"We need to talk this over," Burke said, catching up. "The transplant list isn't clear-cut—your patient might not outrank mine, so technically, that heart's not yours yet."
And then the verbal sparring began. Burke and the other doctor, Hahn, were old rivals from Johns Hopkins—first and second in their class, always at odds. Naturally, Burke, the top dog, had the upper hand over his eternal runner-up.
They ended up calling the transplant center to settle it.
"Dr. Hahn's patient ranks 17 seconds ahead of Dr. Burke's," came the verdict.
"No!" Liz blurted out. "It's not just about rank! Seventeen seconds is nothing—practically a tie. We should look at the patients' conditions too!"
"Pfft," Hahn smirked. "Your guy's got an LVAD—he can stroll around the hospital. Mine's still on dobutamine."
"Still on dobutamine? What, is he climbing Everest next?" Burke fired back.
The old classmates went at it again. Liz's heart raced—she knew Burke was holding his own, but Hahn's patient had the edge on paper. In a panic, her brain checked out, emotions took over, and she pulled a wild move.
She slipped her hand into her pocket, secretly dialed Burke's phone with hers.
Brring brring.
Mid-argument, Burke glanced at his ringing phone, slid it across the table to Liz without looking, and kept battling Hahn. For him, this wasn't just about the patient—it was about keeping his second-place rival in check, as always.
Liz's heart leapt. She grabbed the phone, slipped out of the room, hung up her call, and dialed Adam from Burke's phone.
"Dr. Burke?" Adam's voice came through. "Everything going smooth?"
"Adam, listen to me!" Liz growled. "This time, you have to help me…"
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