Chapter 58 The Real Target

Ella

My hands don't stop.

Vitals. Dressing change. Medication log. One patient, then the next.

The ward sounds exactly like it always does — wheels on linoleum, someone coughing behind a curtain, a low murmur from the far end of the hall.

I move through all of it on autopilot.

That's not calm. That'...

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