CADEN

“Come in,” Chief says at my knock.

Registering the anger on my face, Oberhan leans back in his leather chair and motions for me to sit.

“You’re sending me to Chicago?”

He glances to the chair I can’t occupy right now—my blood is boiling—and exhales as he meets my eyes again.

“Dr. Cocker, how did you find out this information?”

“Is it true?”

“If you think you can use that tone with me, you have another thing coming.”

“Or what? You’ll send me to Chicago? Because that’s pretty much the worst thing you can do. And you’re doing it already.”

With lack of patience, Oberhan eyes me for a couple beats. These are supposed to wilt my resolve. They do not. “I don’t have to send you anywhere. Normally we let interns find their own program when they’re let go. I could send you to a city where all you'll be doing is a whole lot of nothing, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

My eyes flicker. “Chief, I need to stay in Atlanta. I became a doctor to be here for my family.”

“You understood when you took residency with our hospital that you could be transferred to anywhere that needs you most.”

Blinking to the wall, I rub my face with shaky fingers. “I know that. I want to be of use. Believe me I do. But I am very close to my family, and they live here. I have four brothers and sisters. My parents and I are extremely close. Not to mention my cousins. Look, it would devastate them.”

I was about to say me.

Both are accurate.

“I’m sure they’ll be proud of you, Dr. Cocker.” He returns to his computer with a blasé spin of his chair. “Besides, I heard you want to become a cardiothoracic surgeon, and they have an excellent program there. Perhaps even better than our own. Look at this as a forward step to a better future. We're done here.”

She told him about my decision?

But she didn't pick me to stay.

“Yes Chief, I want to do that. Since I’m choosing a specialty none of the other second-years have, could that help me fit into the budget? I could take a pay cut, too, until something changes. I’m not here for the money. I need enough to get by and pay my bills, that’s it.”

He stares at me over his glasses. “We have another second-year requesting cardiology.”

“Who?” My frown smooths out. “It’s Gilroy, isn’t it.”

“Yes. And after the recommendation of Dr. Myers, the choice was clear.”

Stunned to hear it aloud, I blink at him, growl, “This is just great,” and walk out of his office.

“Close the door, Cocker!”

I almost don’t. But he’s right—he could send me anywhere. Not only that but I do not wish to show up in Illinois with a bad reputation preceding me.

I find Dev hovering nearby. “Did you talk him out of it? I bet you talked him out of it, didn’t you? I know you! You always get your way. You don’t even have hair on your butt!”

“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing my face. “I forgot to ask him something.” Turning on my heel I head back, knocking on the door with more respect this time lest my future fall apart before my eyes even more.

“Come in.”

“Excuse me, Chief. I forgot to ask when I’m leaving.”

He doesn’t even look at me. “They’re prepared to give your orientation three days from now.”

My heart is pounding. “Are you flying me there, or do I have to pay for my own ticket?”

“Under the circumstances, you’ll be getting a small stipend for your move. It’s up to you whether you want to drive north so that you have your car with you, or fly. You can talk to my assistant about all of the arrangements. I have a hospital to run.”

“Ah, I see you’re not close with your family.”

His head whips up, eyes flashing. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. And the reason I’m going to pretend is because I think you have a good future in medicine, but if you say another word you will make me doubt that. Need I remind you that I can snuff your career out with my fingertips if I am so inclined? Go home. The next hospital you check into won’t be mine. I don’t want to see you here again.”

I shut the door without having to be asked.

And how I wanted to slam it.

Seething, I pass Dev. “It’s done. I have to go home. He just kicked me out.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

Dev jogs up, keeps pace with me. “What did you say to him? Isn’t there something we can do?”

“Nope.” I stop and hold my friend’s look.

“Dr. Mangal?” Pivens calls from an intersection in the corridor before he disappears, “I’m headed into the O.R.”

“Go, Dev. We’ll stay in touch. I promise.”

He embraces me, and I bite my lip and smack his back.

“I’ll keep you to that!”

In my locker I’ve got a bunch of stuff I never thought would come back home with me. Normal stuff like deodorant, shaving cream and my razor. But it’s the picture of Max, Lexi and I at this very hospital the day Samantha was born, taped to the inside that kills me to peel off. I’m holding her on my lap, and she’s hours old.

I feel burning in the back of my eyes as I tumble an extra pair of pants and a shirt, some socks, and all toiletries into my bag. Never slammed my locker before. Now’s a good time to start.

This is fucking bizarre. Things seemed to be going so well with Elizabeth. I never expected her to pick me because we were sleeping together. I did think I’d be chosen based on merit. And when I chose that specialty I really believed I was in the clear. That’s probably what gave me the freedom to become her lover—I didn’t think the decision was an issue that would come up again.

It was always Janet I had to beat. And now she went and chose…I can’t believe this shit!

In the corridor I nod goodbye to a lot of confused faces. I can barely look anybody in the eye. Dr. Stevens walks up and off of my expression says, “So you know.”

“Windy City here I come.”

He frowns, “I was talking about Cilla. She passed.”

I grimace, step backward, and drag a hand down my face. “No, I didn’t know that. I just visited her last night.”

“She left this for you.” He hands me an envelope.

Staring at it, I decide I’ve gotta open it later. “Was her mom with her?”

“Yes, and her father arrived this morning from Alaska.”

“Well, at least she had them.” Heading out, I mutter, “Family is everything.”

Stevens calls after me, “What’s this about the Windy City?”

Without looking back, I answer, “I’m being transferred. Lucky me.”

Nurses and doctors I’ve worked with since I joined Atlanta Hope throw questions at my exit. Since I’m about to lose my grip on my emotions, I shake my head and keep right on walking.

Climbing into Dad’s car, I look at the hospital, memories flying at me.

Every day here I’ve looked forward to.

I spent more time in this fortress than my own home. The ratio isn’t even close.

Phoning my brother up, I avoid my rearview mirror and as soon as he answers, my voice cracks, “Max!”