The bus arrived. We boarded. The city blurred past. Life continued.
Only once we reached the hospital and stepped into the chaos of a typical Monday did the heaviness in my chest lift a little.
I clocked in. Changed into my scrubs. Tied my hair back and secured it with my favourite gold rose hairclip, a gift from Raven, my wife as she would fondly call herself.
I was finally equipped to begin my day which I didn't doubt for a minute would be stressful after all it's a Monday.
I said my affirmations quickly and did a quick power up jog to begin my normal, predictable.
and safe day.
I was halfway down the hallway when I froze. I was pinned to the spot, I could feel it before I could see it. Searching from left to right for who held me captive with their gaze, and finally my search was over.
Someone was standing at the far end.
A man.
Face shadowed by bad lighting.
Still. Too still.
Watching me.
A cold tremor slid down my spine.
I blinked.
And he was gone.
Again.
This time, my hands trembled.
Something was wrong with the world.
Something was wrong with me.
If anyone asked me later when the day started to feel wrong, I could point to a single moment, the one where I found myself standing in the staff restroom at Grandview, staring at my own reflection like it belonged to someone else.
Not because I looked different.
But because I felt like someone was standing behind me.
And there wasn't.
I checked three times.
Stall doors: empty.
Corners: empty.
Air: silent except for the hum of the vent.
Still, the weight of being watched clung to me like static.
I pressed my fingers against my temples. Get it together, Elara.
Night shifts were messing with my head. Or lack of sleep. Or the creepy disappearing guy at the bus stop. Or
A knock rattled the door.
"Elara?" Raven's voice. "You good?"
I swallowed. "Yeah. Coming."
When I stepped out, she took one look at me and frowned. "You look like you just saw death and it waved back."
"Just tired."
Lie.
She knew it.
I knew it.
But she didn't push.
Grandview wasn't a place for emotional meltdown anyway, not when hallways buzzed with nurses, patients, alarms, and stress that never slept.
We had barely made it to the nurses' station when Kenneth, one of the emergency doctors, flagged us down.
"Elara, you're in intake today. Quinn is shadowing you."
"Quinn?" I blinked. "Who's Quinn?"
"New transfer. Detective or something? He's here to observe hospital protocols regarding violent cases. Administration signed off on it."
A detective? Shadowing me?
"Why me?" I asked.
Kenneth shrugged. "Ask administration. He's already in the triage room."
Raven raised a brow at me. "Maybe he's hot."
"I don't need 'hot,'" I muttered. "I need sleep and a paycheck."
Still, as we headed toward triage, a knot tightened in my stomach.
A detective shadowing me… today of all days… felt off.
Like someone was placing pieces of a puzzle around me, and I didn't know what the picture was yet.
The triage room door was partially open. I pushed it gently.
There he was.
Kade Quinn.
If someone had sculpted a man out of shadows and a bad mood, they would've made him.
Tall.
Dark shirt rolled at the sleeves.
Sharp jaw.
Eyes the color of storm clouds right before lightning hits.
He wasn't looking at me.
He was studying the medical cart like it told the future.
But I felt his presence instantly, like the air shifted to make space for him.
He finally looked up.
And I forgot how to breathe for a second.
He was attractive, not in the conventional, pretty-boy way. No. His attractiveness was more like gravity pulling you in against your will.
There was something… watching in his eyes.
Studying.
Measuring.
Like he knew me from somewhere he shouldn't.
He extended a hand. "Detective Kade Quinn."
His voice was smooth but sweet with something colder…. forbidden underneath. Something unreadable.
I shook his hand.
A spark snapped between our skin.
Real. Sharp. Like a static shock but deeper.
His eyes narrowed.
Mine widened.
We both let go at the exact same moment.
"I'll be observing your intake process," he said.
"Right." I forced a nod. "Just follow my lead."
He stepped closer, not invading, but near enough that I could feel the heat off his body.
And near enough that my heartbeat did something strange.
Like it skipped.
Then doubled.
Then steadied.
Why?
No idea.
But I hated that he noticed.
Work dragged me into routine quickly, stats, vitals, patient histories, assessments. I spoke; Kade listened. Or rather, watched me.
Every move.
Every reaction.
Every silence.
He wasn't evaluating hospital procedures.
He was evaluating me.
The awareness prickled at the back of my neck until I almost snapped at him just to break the tension.
Then, mid-shift, a patient rolled in, and older man, late fifties, unconscious, possible cardiac event.
While I assessed him, I felt Kade step behind me to observe.
Close. Too close.
"Elara," he said quietly.
"Yes?"
"You're shaking."
I hadn't realized it until he said it.