“Then leave,” I tell all of them. “Now, before I get tempted to tell you never to come back.”
They hasten to gather their things.
“McMillan?” I crook a finger at Laura after she grabs her backpack.
She tugs on the straps of her bag as she approaches me.
“Where’s Smithson?” I ask her. “Did she go home already?”
“No,” she answers as she averts her gaze.
Earlier, she spoke so loudly and with so much confidence. Now, I can barely hear her.
“You’re sure?”
“She’s still working,” Laura says. “Because she went home early yesterday.”
Because I sent her home early yesterday.
“Where is she?”
“I believe she’s in the morgue, sir,” a male intern reluctantly pipes in.
I give him a puzzled look. “Explain.”
“She’s helping Dr. Jones with an autopsy,” he tells me. “I think.”
I nod. It’s a better lead than nothing.
“Okay. Go home, all of you, and get some rest. When you get back, you better be ready to do your jobs.”
“Yes, sir.”
I leave the locker room and head to the morgue.
~
I find Ellis there alone, stitching up a corpse. She turns her head as I open the door, and when her gaze meets mine, she freezes.
“Rai – Dr. Knight.” Surprise is evident in the blue eyes peeking above her mask.
I approach her. “Are you done with the autopsy?”
She nods. “I’m just closing up.”
“Go on, then.”
Ellis draws a deep breath before her hands start moving again. For a few seconds, I say nothing as I watch her work with needle, thread and skin under the bright lamp, the only source of light in the room full of corpses.
“Excellent stitches,” I praise her after seeing her make a few perfectly.
Her hands may have trembled a little at the beginning, but now they’re completely steady.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
I shift my gaze to her face. “How are you?”
Ellis exhales. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
I don’t miss the cold edge in her voice, so I frown.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
So she says.
“Ellis.” I place my hand over hers.
She finally looks up. “Dr. Knight, I’m stitching.”
“He’s dead. He can wait.”
Ellis sighs. “No, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be? I was devastated yesterday and you helped me.”
“So you’re pretending we didn’t have sex?”
“As much as I’d like to, I’m not very good at pretending, as you no doubt know by now. So no. I know we…” She swallows. “…had sex. And it was… good. I’m not going to lie about that.”
“Good?” I was hoping for something more like mind-blowing, sublime.
“But it was still a mistake.”
“Like the first time?”
“The first time was an accident. We were both… ignorant of certain things and we got caught up in the moment. Yesterday was a mistake. We both knew it was wrong and we still did it.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You regret it?”
“We shouldn’t have had sex, Rainier. And we shouldn’t have any more sex.”
“Why? Because you’re an intern and I’m an attending physician?”
Ellis doesn’t answer, but I know I’m right.
“I don’t care,” I tell her.
“Well, I do.” She places a hand on her chest as she steps away from the table. “It’s not right for either of us.”
“According to everyone else who suddenly decided to care? Well, I’ve got news for you. I don’t give a shit.”
She takes off her mask. “But I do! I walk down a corridor and people whisper about me. My fellow interns and some of the residents won’t talk to me or even look at me.”
“They’re just jealous.”
“Some of the residents and attending physicians refuse to work with me,” Ellis tells me in dismay. “They won’t teach me. They won’t see me as a doctor anymore, just a woman who sleeps with people to climb up the ladder to success.”
So what the other interns said is true.
“I’ll talk to them,” I offer.
“No!” Ellis protests. “If you do that, the more everyone will think I’m your… your…”
“Pet? Whore? Bitch?” I give her a few suggestions.
She frowns. “I’m a doctor, Rainier. At least, I’m trying to be one. That’s why I’m here at this hospital. That’s who I need to be seen as.”
I lift my hands. “Why does it matter what other people think?”
“Maybe that’s easy for you to say because you’ve already made something of yourself. You know who you are. You’re sure of it. But I’m still trying to find myself. I’m still trying to be someone. I need people to respect me and to trust me, to want to work with me.”
“So you want me but you won’t ever have sex with me again because you’re afraid of what other people will think and say?” I ask her.
“You’re not good for me, Rainier,” Ellis states clearly. “We doctors, we know when something is good or bad for a person. We tell others to stop doing something because it’s bad for them, and they try to even if they don’t want to because they believe us. I know you’re bad for me, and so I have to quit you even if I don’t want to.”