Read the novel to turn back time. Turn back time text

Dedicated to Lee

In the past, present and future

Chapter 1

Winter Klein squeezed with difficulty under the archway, crowded with students, that led to Perelman's courtyard. The noise there made her ears clog, and the girl wanted to run away from there as quickly as possible. Three hundred fourth-year medical students filled a huge block-sized rectangular courtyard paved with tiles and surrounded by brick buildings in the Victorian style typical of the University of Pennsylvania as a whole. With loud cheers, beer and music, graduates of the university's medical school celebrated one of the most important events in their careers.

Everyone has been waiting for this day for a long time. Every year on this day, a computer program that, using a complex formula, took into account grades, interview results, and the students’ choices themselves, assigned fourth-year students to medical schools where they would undergo residency. Almost ninety-five percent of graduates received distribution. The remaining five percent had to fight tooth and nail for the remaining available resident positions. Otherwise, they were left without a job after years of grueling studies.

Evenings in early May were still chilly, so Winter wore a pale yellow cotton sweater over a white Oxford shirt, khaki chinos, and boat shoes. She was often called a real hipster. It wasn't that she consciously preferred this style, it was just that Winter found these clothes to be the most comfortable. So she rarely paid attention to good-natured, and sometimes Not good, comments from your friends and family about this.

Today she didn't feel like having fun at all. After her shift at the hospital, Winter didn't even change clothes. She felt like a stranger at this celebration of life. The feeling of alienation hit her the moment she picked up the envelope with the distribution results. But before she had time to realize it, the noisy crowd of students around her miraculously dispersed. Now that there were fewer people around, Winter counted at least six kegs, from which beer flowed like a river, and saw tables standing close to each other, on which there were unfinished bottles of alcohol and soda here and there.

A rock band was playing somewhere. Someone tried to shout the song down into the microphone: Winter had the feeling that the speakers were five meters high - her eardrums were shaking so hard. Everyone around rejoiced - or drowned their sorrows in wine. Winter did not yet know what was in store for her – to jump for joy or suffer.

The envelope that held the key to her future (at least the next five years) lay in her back pocket. Winter decided that she would not share this pivotal moment in her life with hundreds of other students, especially given the likely disappointment, and was about to leave.

- Hello! – a rangy African-American man twelve years older than twenty-three-year-old Winter greeted her. He began to push towards her. – You still came. I thought you wouldn't make it.

“The round ended late, and then two crowded trains rushed past.

Winter smiled at Ken Mehr in greeting. It seemed that they had met only a few days ago, and not three years ago, when they stood next to the corpse in a white plastic bag. At first, they were united only by the desire to become a doctor. But after spending many Saturday evenings together in an eerie laboratory over the withered and rotten remains of what was once a living human body, surrounded by death and overwhelmed by the desire to unravel the mysteries of life, they became true friends.

Winter squeezed Ken's hand and tried to say with excitement in her voice:

-What do you have there? Tell us!

– I was sent to anesthesiology.

“Just as you wanted,” Winter hugged her friend’s skinny shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “This is so great, I’m terribly happy for you.” And where to?

Ken's satisfied smile grew even wider. With timid joy on his face, he shook his head in the direction of the turrets of the buildings visible beyond the campus.

- Yes, right here.

Winter had a hard time suppressing a twinge of envy mixed with disappointment. Her friend got one of the best positions, and in tough competition with many students. His dreams are about to come true. But it was not Ken’s fault that she failed to realize her dream as easily as he did. Winter was truly happy for her friend, but her heart was heavy. She forced a smile.

- So, the university hospital is shining for you. This is... the best news. What did your wife say?

Ken laughed.

“Mina told me not to linger here.” She wants to have dinner with me.

“Then you better hurry up, buddy,” Winter warned, frowning and tapping her Seiko watch. - It's eight o'clock now.

- Going. But what about you? – Ken stepped aside and almost pressed closer to Winter to let a group of excited students pass by. - Did they take you to surgery?

- I don't know.

- In what sense?

Winter shrugged uncertainly.

– I haven’t opened the envelope yet.

- Come on? So what are you waiting for?

You still wouldn't understand me even if I tried to explain. I don’t fully understand it myself.

The cell phone on Ken's belt rang, saving her the trouble of answering. Her friend pressed the phone to his ear and shouted, “Hello!” After a few seconds, he closed the flip phone and leaned towards Winter.

- I have to go. Mina called the nanny and told me to come home right away.

- Then hurry up. In just a month you will spend much fewer nights with your wife.

- Call me! – Ken asked, leaving. - Call tomorrow and tell me what you have there.

Winter nodded. After Ken left, only strangers remained around her. She did not know students from other university schools, and she rarely interacted with classmates. Winter studied at the University of Pennsylvania in an accelerated combined program, the completion of which allowed her to receive two degrees at once: a bachelor of science and a doctor of medicine. In addition, she began her internship at Jefferson Medical College a little later than other students. Unlike her classmates, Winter, living in a high-rise building in the city center, preferred to study at home rather than in the library.

During her internship, she spent whole days in the hospital, was on duty at night every third or fourth day and rarely shared shifts with the same students. She had friends, but few friends, at least among doctors. Now that Ken was gone, Winter had no reason to stay. I shouldn't have come here in the first place. I'm a complete stranger here.

Suddenly angry, Winter turned around to leave. Her head jerked back and her chin touched the face of a dark-haired girl. When Winter's eyes cleared, she realized that she was staring into the black eyes of a stranger without looking away. At just over one hundred and seventy centimeters tall, Winter was used to other girls often being shorter than her. Now she herself had to look up, and this surprised her no less than the sudden pain in her jaw.

“Forgive me, for God’s sake,” Winter apologized.

- Wow!

Pierce Rifkin ran a finger over her bruised lip. There was blood on the finger.

“Your lip is broken,” Winter stated and reached out with her hand to the girl’s face. But Pierce grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.

- It’s okay, it’ll heal.

Pierce looked carefully at the girl who had hit her. She saw it for the first time, because she would probably remember it. The girl was slightly shorter than her. Her thick, wavy copper-brown hair with a golden tint hung down to her shoulders, and her eyes were a dazzling blue. A beautiful face and blooming appearance, combined with a slender figure, made the stranger look like a model.

“You’ll have a bruise on your chin,” Pierce said.

“It looks like it,” Winter agreed, feeling a lump already swelling under her fingers. “We could both use some ice.”

Pierce grinned and winked at the girl.

“We’re lucky: I know where there’s a whole carload of ice.” Behind me! – she said, extending her hand to Winter.

Winter looked closely at this hand with long, skillful fingers. The palm was wide, strong and very suitable for this girl with an athletic physique, which was unmistakably visible under a tight dark blue T-shirt and low-slung, faded jeans. Her black hair, casually cut and tousled, ended at neck level, framing an expressive, angular face. The girl looked more like an athlete or a bartender than a future doctor. Winter took her hand, and the stranger's warm fingers wrapped around her palm, after which she was roughly pulled into the thick of the crowd. In order not to crash into those who appeared in their way, Winter pressed herself closer to the back of the girl, who was carrying her along with her.

- What is your name? – Winter shouted.

The dark-haired girl turned around.

- Pierce. And you?

- Winter.

“Keep up, Winter,” Pierce squeezed the girl’s hand even tighter and pulled her closer to her, continuing to energetically push through the crowd. “I wouldn’t want to lose you halfway.”

Winter could feel Pierce's hard muscles working as she paved the way for them. She also felt her stomach pressed against Pierce's back. The feeling was deeply intimate. All this was completely unlike her. Winter was not used to following impulses and was not inclined to let go of the initiative. But, oddly enough, at the moment she was being led by her - or rather, dragged- some kind of stranger. Winter decided that her desire for independence had somehow turned off for a while, and so she did not resist. Besides, she was torn by curiosity. She was terribly curious about who this girl was who was pushing forward with such determination as if the entire campus belonged to her.

- Hey, Pierce, you're bleeding! – some guy shouted.

- Come on? You’re just a genius, a real doctor,” Pierce said, not at a loss.

Rolling laughter accompanied them until Winter forced Pierce to stop.

- So, wait and turn to me.

Pierce, surprised by the force with which Winter pulled her back and the commanding notes in her melodic voice, stopped and turned to face the girl.

- What's happened?

– Did it even occur to you to ask me if I wanted to go with you?

- Nope. Usually everyone listens to me anyway.

- Well, usually everyone listens to me too.

Winter pulled her hand out of Pierce's and examined her injured lip.

“You know, the guy was right, the bleeding is quite heavy.” Do you have a handkerchief?

Pierce just laughed in response.

- Are you serious? You have it yourself is he there?

Winter shook her head with a smile and patted a blonde woman in a medical uniform who happened to be nearby on the back.

– Can I borrow a napkin from you? “Winter pointed to the napkin she was holding in her hand along with the plastic cup.

- I'm sorry, what? – the blonde looked at her with curiosity. But then she recognized Pierce - and her eyes widened: “Oh, Pierce, baby!” What happened to you?

“She’s the one who got me off,” Pierce said in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking her head towards Winter.

- Stop, stop, stop! – Winter protested, and suddenly saw that the surprise on the blonde’s face was being replaced by... jealousy. Jealousy?!

Current page: 1 (book has 18 pages total) [available reading passage: 12 pages]

Radcliffe
Turn back time

Dedicated to Lee

In the past, present and future

Chapter 1

Winter Klein squeezed with difficulty under the archway, crowded with students, that led to Perelman's courtyard. The noise there made her ears clog, and the girl wanted to run away from there as quickly as possible. Three hundred fourth-year medical students filled a huge block-sized rectangular courtyard paved with tiles and surrounded by brick buildings in the Victorian style typical of the University of Pennsylvania as a whole. With loud cheers, beer and music, graduates of the university's medical school celebrated one of the most important events in their careers.

Everyone has been waiting for this day for a long time. Every year on this day, a computer program that, using a complex formula, took into account grades, interview results, and the students’ choices themselves, assigned fourth-year students to medical schools where they would undergo residency. Almost ninety-five percent of graduates received distribution. The remaining five percent had to fight tooth and nail for the remaining available resident positions. Otherwise, they were left without a job after years of grueling studies.

Evenings in early May were still chilly, so Winter wore a pale yellow cotton sweater over a white Oxford shirt, khaki chinos, and boat shoes. She was often called a real hipster. It wasn't that she consciously preferred this style, it was just that Winter found these clothes to be the most comfortable. So she rarely paid attention to good-natured, and sometimes Not good, comments from your friends and family about this.

Today she didn't feel like having fun at all. After her shift at the hospital, Winter didn't even change clothes. She felt like a stranger at this celebration of life. The feeling of alienation hit her the moment she picked up the envelope with the distribution results. But before she had time to realize it, the noisy crowd of students around her miraculously dispersed. Now that there were fewer people around, Winter counted at least six kegs, from which beer flowed like a river, and saw tables standing close to each other, on which there were unfinished bottles of alcohol and soda here and there.

A rock band was playing somewhere. Someone tried to shout the song down into the microphone: Winter had the feeling that the speakers were five meters high - her eardrums were shaking so hard. Everyone around rejoiced - or drowned their sorrows in wine. Winter did not yet know what was in store for her – to jump for joy or suffer.

The envelope that held the key to her future (at least the next five years) lay in her back pocket. Winter decided that she would not share this pivotal moment in her life with hundreds of other students, especially given the likely disappointment, and was about to leave.

- Hello! – a rangy African-American man twelve years older than twenty-three-year-old Winter greeted her. He began to push towards her. – You still came. I thought you wouldn't make it.

“The round ended late, and then two crowded trains rushed past.

Winter smiled at Ken Mehr in greeting. It seemed that they had met only a few days ago, and not three years ago, when they stood next to the corpse in a white plastic bag. At first, they were united only by the desire to become a doctor. But after spending many Saturday evenings together in an eerie laboratory over the withered and rotten remains of what was once a living human body, surrounded by death and overwhelmed by the desire to unravel the mysteries of life, they became true friends.

Winter squeezed Ken's hand and tried to say with excitement in her voice:

-What do you have there? Tell us!

– I was sent to anesthesiology.

“Just as you wanted,” Winter hugged her friend’s skinny shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “This is so great, I’m terribly happy for you.” And where to?

Ken's satisfied smile grew even wider. With timid joy on his face, he shook his head in the direction of the turrets of the buildings visible beyond the campus.

- Yes, right here.

Winter had a hard time suppressing a twinge of envy mixed with disappointment. Her friend got one of the best positions, and in tough competition with many students. His dreams are about to come true. But it was not Ken’s fault that she failed to realize her dream as easily as he did. Winter was truly happy for her friend, but her heart was heavy. She forced a smile.

- So, the university hospital is shining for you. This is... the best news. What did your wife say?

Ken laughed.

“Mina told me not to linger here.” She wants to have dinner with me.

“Then you better hurry up, buddy,” Winter warned, frowning and tapping her Seiko watch. - It's eight o'clock now.

- Going. But what about you? – Ken stepped aside and almost pressed closer to Winter to let a group of excited students pass by. - Did they take you to surgery?

- I don't know.

- In what sense?

Winter shrugged uncertainly.

– I haven’t opened the envelope yet.

- Come on? So what are you waiting for?

You still wouldn't understand me even if I tried to explain. I don’t fully understand it myself.

The cell phone on Ken's belt rang, saving her the trouble of answering. Her friend pressed the phone to his ear and shouted, “Hello!” After a few seconds, he closed the flip phone and leaned towards Winter.

- I have to go. Mina called the nanny and told me to come home right away.

- Then hurry up. In just a month you will spend much fewer nights with your wife.

- Call me! – Ken asked, leaving. - Call tomorrow and tell me what you have there.

Winter nodded. After Ken left, only strangers remained around her. She did not know students from other university schools, and she rarely interacted with classmates. Winter studied at the University of Pennsylvania in an accelerated combined program, the completion of which allowed her to receive two degrees at once: a bachelor of science and a doctor of medicine. In addition, she began her internship at Jefferson Medical College a little later than other students. Unlike her classmates, Winter, living in a high-rise building in the city center, preferred to study at home rather than in the library.

During her internship, she spent whole days in the hospital, was on duty at night every third or fourth day and rarely shared shifts with the same students. She had friends, but few friends, at least among doctors. Now that Ken was gone, Winter had no reason to stay. I shouldn't have come here in the first place. I'm a complete stranger here.

Suddenly angry, Winter turned around to leave. Her head jerked back and her chin touched the face of a dark-haired girl. When Winter's eyes cleared, she realized that she was staring into the black eyes of a stranger without looking away. At just over one hundred and seventy centimeters tall, Winter was used to other girls often being shorter than her. Now she herself had to look up, and this surprised her no less than the sudden pain in her jaw.

“Forgive me, for God’s sake,” Winter apologized.

- Wow!

Pierce Rifkin ran a finger over her bruised lip. There was blood on the finger.

“Your lip is broken,” Winter stated and reached out with her hand to the girl’s face. But Pierce grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.

- It’s okay, it’ll heal.

Pierce looked carefully at the girl who had hit her. She saw it for the first time, because she would probably remember it. The girl was slightly shorter than her. Her thick, wavy copper-brown hair with a golden tint hung down to her shoulders, and her eyes were a dazzling blue. A beautiful face and blooming appearance, combined with a slender figure, made the stranger look like a model.

“You’ll have a bruise on your chin,” Pierce said.

“It looks like it,” Winter agreed, feeling a lump already swelling under her fingers. “We could both use some ice.”

Pierce grinned and winked at the girl.

“We’re lucky: I know where there’s a whole carload of ice.” Behind me! – she said, extending her hand to Winter.

Winter looked closely at this hand with long, skillful fingers. The palm was wide, strong and very suitable for this girl with an athletic physique, which was unmistakably visible under a tight dark blue T-shirt and low-slung, faded jeans. Her black hair, casually cut and tousled, ended at neck level, framing an expressive, angular face. The girl looked more like an athlete or a bartender than a future doctor. Winter took her hand, and the stranger's warm fingers wrapped around her palm, after which she was roughly pulled into the thick of the crowd. In order not to crash into those who appeared in their way, Winter pressed herself closer to the back of the girl, who was carrying her along with her.

- What is your name? – Winter shouted.

The dark-haired girl turned around.

- Pierce. And you?

- Winter.

“Keep up, Winter,” Pierce squeezed the girl’s hand even tighter and pulled her closer to her, continuing to energetically push through the crowd. “I wouldn’t want to lose you halfway.”

Winter could feel Pierce's hard muscles working as she paved the way for them. She also felt her stomach pressed against Pierce's back. The feeling was deeply intimate. All this was completely unlike her. Winter was not used to following impulses and was not inclined to let go of the initiative. But, oddly enough, at the moment she was being led by her - or rather, dragged- some kind of stranger. Winter decided that her desire for independence had somehow turned off for a while, and so she did not resist. Besides, she was torn by curiosity. She was terribly curious about who this girl was who was pushing forward with such determination as if the entire campus belonged to her.

- Hey, Pierce, you're bleeding! – some guy shouted.

- Come on? You’re just a genius, a real doctor,” Pierce said, not at a loss.

Rolling laughter accompanied them until Winter forced Pierce to stop.

- So, wait and turn to me.

Pierce, surprised by the force with which Winter pulled her back and the commanding notes in her melodic voice, stopped and turned to face the girl.

- What's happened?

– Did it even occur to you to ask me if I wanted to go with you?

- Nope. Usually everyone listens to me anyway.

- Well, usually everyone listens to me too.

Winter pulled her hand out of Pierce's and examined her injured lip.

“You know, the guy was right, the bleeding is quite heavy.” Do you have a handkerchief?

Pierce just laughed in response.

- Are you serious? You have it yourself is he there?

Winter shook her head with a smile and patted a blonde woman in a medical uniform who happened to be nearby on the back.

– Can I borrow a napkin from you? “Winter pointed to the napkin she was holding in her hand along with the plastic cup.

- I'm sorry, what? – the blonde looked at her with curiosity. But then she recognized Pierce - and her eyes widened: “Oh, Pierce, baby!” What happened to you?

“She’s the one who got me off,” Pierce said in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking her head towards Winter.

- Stop, stop, stop! – Winter protested, and suddenly saw that the surprise on the blonde’s face was being replaced by... jealousy. Jealousy?! Winter looked at Pierce, at the way she spread her legs, at the same time addressing the blonde with a lazy grin and unconsciously glancing over her lips. Winter knew this look, only men usually look at women this way. So this is how it happens.

The girl was clearly angry.

– I wonder what you meant by “she’s so you.” finished off»?

Winter swayed sideways with her whole body. It's time to get out of the line of fire. Pierce laughed and took Winter's hand again.

“Just an accident, Tammy,” Pierce took a napkin, dabbed the blood on her lip and asked Winter: “Is that better?”

Winter examined her again, ignoring the blonde.

“The blood flows more quietly now, but you still need ice.” Suddenly the labial artery is affected.

- Yes, it’s possible. Let’s go, we’re almost there,” Pierce wanted to turn around, but Tammy grabbed her hand.

-Where were you assigned? – she asked with irritation. - However, it’s clear where.

“To the university hospital,” Pierce answered, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

She then pointedly intertwined her fingers with Winter's and pulled her towards her.

- Let's get out of here.

Winter could not move, as the crowd immediately took up any vacated space.

“Listen, I have to...” Winter began.

“You still won’t get out of here quickly, and besides, your face is swelling,” Pierce interrupted her.

- Okay, let's go.

They had to fight their way for another good five minutes until they finally reached the tables where drinks were being poured. Huge coolers were lined up next to them. Pierce filled two plastic cups with ice and handed one to Winter.

– It’s better to put an ice cube directly on your chin and hold it. You'll have a decent bruise.

Winter tried to move her jaw from side to side and felt tension in the area of ​​her ears.

“Looks like I’ll have to wear a bite block for a week,” she sighed.

– Temporomandibular joint? – Pierce clarified.

- Yeah, but it's not that bad. It's just that every now and then my jaw reminds me that I landed on my face too often as a child.

- Climbed trees?

For some reason, Pierce had a hard time imagining Winter playing any kind of contact sport. More like tennis. It's like a nice workout at a country club that won't get you dirty, just a little sweaty, and then lunch in an air-conditioned restaurant. Pierce knew this well, because this was how her mother liked to spend her time.

Winter laughed, remembering how much she wanted to play tennis in her youth.

- No, I was skating. I was taken to the section when I was two years old. I fell on my face so many times trying to do a triple axel that I lost count.

– Did you want to go to the Olympics? – Pierce introduced Winter at the skating rink, the coach was standing next to her, music was pouring from the speakers. Yes, it suits her.

- Did not want. I always dreamed of becoming a doctor. And you?

“I’ve almost always dreamed about this too,” Pierce said, a shadow flashed in her gaze, which made her eyes darken even more. She looked at her hand, to which the blood had dried. - I need to wash myself.

Winter realized that Pierce did not want to discuss this topic with her.

- I will go with you. I need to look at your lip after you wash it. You may need stitches.

- Don't think.

– We will decide this after the inspection.

Pierce grinned despite the pain in her lip. She was not used to giving someone control over the situation. This was out of character and went against the reputation she had built over the past four years. Knowing who she was, those around her automatically looked to her for instructions. It was nice in its own way to realize that someone treated her differently from everyone else.

- Okay, Doc, whatever you say.

“That’s better,” Winter laughed approvingly. “But you lead us, you’re good at it.”

Pierce took the girl's hand again. The movement was so natural that Winter hardly noticed it. Along the way, they tried to stay close to the buildings, avoiding the crowd. So they got to Houston Hall. When they entered the student center, the noise and commotion finally died down.

- God bless! “It’s hoped that in a couple of minutes my brain will start functioning normally again,” Winter muttered. She looked around the room with high arches, marble floors and carved columns. – These ancient buildings are simply amazing!

– What school did you go to? asked Pierce.

- At Jefferson School.

- Yes, you and I are enemies.

Winter stopped, pulled her hand away and looked at Pierce appraisingly.

- University school?

- She's the one.

The two medical schools, separated by twenty blocks, have been at odds since the eighteenth century. Over time, the rivalry became more theoretical, but students from each school still laid claim to the palm.

- Well, then let me to me“Assess the scale of the disaster,” Winter said completely sincerely.

“I could if I didn’t care what my lip looked like after treatment,” Pierce retorted.

The girls glared at each other, not wanting to give in, until suddenly they burst into laughter at the same time.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Pierce suggested, “all the toilets here are overflowing.” “For so many years, she managed to explore the campus like the back of her hand, including finding places that were always free. Pierce led Winter unerringly through the labyrinthine corridors and then up the wide stone staircase. - Here we are.

Pierce opened the door and let Winter in. All three toilet stalls were empty. Winter turned on the cold water and pulled some paper towels out of the dryer, before wetting them and motioning for Pierce to lean over the sink.

“I don’t think there’s any need to say that it’s going to sting now,” Winter warned.

– I can do it myself.

- No doubt. But I can see the wound better. You may cause bleeding again.

“You don’t seem to have much faith in my abilities,” Pierce noted, arching an eyebrow.

“Considering where you studied…” Winter carefully washed the dried blood from Pierce’s lip. - Damn it, the wound goes right along the edge of the lip. Perhaps on her really necessary apply stitches.

“Let’s take a look,” Pierce leaned towards the mirror and squinted. – The damage is not too deep. Maybe a band-aid will suffice.

“And if you don’t, you’ll be left with a pretty noticeable scar,” Winter said emphatically.

- Wow, you sound like a surgeon.

- I hope I will become one. That's my plan.

- Is it true? Where were you assigned?

This was truly the question of the day, but Pierce herself was little worried about this. She already knew where she would do her residency. She always knew this. Suddenly she became very interested in where they were sent Winter.

Confused, Winter sighed.

- Actually I do not know.

- Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Pierce began to hastily apologize. “Maybe I can help you somehow.” For example, find places where there are still free positions.

Winter frowned, trying to comprehend the meaning of these words. It took her a moment to realize that Pierce had misunderstood her.

– Oh, no, it’s not that I wasn’t assigned. More precisely, Maybe, I didn’t get anywhere, but... In fact, I just haven’t opened the envelope yet.

- Are you kidding?! You were given this envelope three hours ago and you still haven’t opened it? But why?

Because it won't be what I want. Winter didn't want to admit it, especially to Pierce, so she tried to find another explanation.

– I was delayed on a round at the hospital. I did not have the opportunity to do this calmly.

Pierce realized that for some reason Winter found this question unpleasant, and did not press further.

– Do you have the envelope with you?

“Yes,” Winter patted her back pocket.

“Then let’s see what’s inside.”

For the first time all evening, Winter really wanted to look into the envelope and share this exciting moment with Pierce. There were no reasons for this, but nevertheless it was so. Taking a deep breath, Winter pulled the envelope out of her pocket and opened it without hesitation. She pulled out a thick card from there and, without looking at the inscription, handed it to Pierce.

Pearce read the verdict to herself first and suppressed a sudden surge of disappointment.

- Surgery. Yale – New Haven,” she said out loud and met Winter’s gaze. - Good place, congratulations.

“Yes,” Winter agreed, without expressing surprise. “Thank you,” she thanked in an even voice.

- Well, let's check the rest.

- What are you talking about? – Winter asked, trying to unravel the strange expression that flashed across Pierce’s face. For a moment she seemed distressed.

Pierce returned the card and cupped Winter's face with both hands, watching as the girl's pupils dilated in surprise.

“Open your mouth,” Pierce asked, placing her thumbs on the temporomandibular joints of Winter’s face. – Slowly and as wide as possible.

Winter felt butterflies swirl in her stomach and her face flush. Pierce's hands were not only strong, but also gentle. The girls stood so close that their thighs were touching.

“Everything seems fine,” Winter muttered as Pierce carefully felt her knuckles. Everything... just wonderful.

Pierce ran her fingers along Winter's chin.

- Hurt?

Winter shook her head. She couldn't feel her chin at all. All her senses focused on Pierce, on her burning skin. Winter's breathing quickened, and Pierce's breathing was also ragged. Her eyes darkened so that her pupils merged with her irises. Winter had no doubt that she could drown in this night pool.

“Pierce...” whispered Winter. Whatever is happening between them now cannot be allowed to happen, she thought. But when the girl again plunged into the bottomless pools that Pierce's eyes had become, she forgot all the reasons why she should stop. Winter forced herself to concentrate: “Don’t.”

- Hmm? – Pierce drawled and tilted her head to inhale Winter’s scent. She put her hand on the girl's neck and very tenderly kissed her on the place on her chin where the bruise was spreading. Pierce felt a slight tingling on her lips and some tension in her body.

- That's better?

“Much better,” Winter replied in a teasing tone, trying to defuse the situation.

“It’s getting better and better,” Pierce said and, closing her eyes, began to lean down to kiss the girl.

“Pierce... wait...” whispered Winter. At that moment her phone rang. The sound seemed simply deafening and made her twitch. Winter awkwardly fumbled for her cell phone, unable to take her eyes off Pierce. Her lips were so close. Winter said in a trembling voice, “Hello.” She listened to what she was told, without taking her eyes off the carotid artery that was pulsating in Pierce's throat. – I thought you wouldn’t come. Fine. I'm on the toilet. “I’ll be right there,” Winter said. She closed the phone and said in a hoarse voice: “I have to go.”

- Why? – Pierce asked, continuing to stroke the girl’s neck and comb through the hair on the back of her head. Pierce could not be mistaken, this look with which Winter looked at her was well known to her: other girls looked at her this way, but for the first time someone managed to excite her so much.

- Do you have a date?

“No,” said Winter, carefully freeing herself from Pierce’s embrace, although not from her spell, “it was my husband who called.”

Frozen in place, Pierce didn't say a word as Winter walked around her and hurried away. When the door closed behind the girl and Pierce was left alone, she bent down and picked up a forgotten white card from the floor. Winter must have dropped it. Pierce ran her thumb over the printed letters on the card, then tucked it into her breast pocket.

Goodbye Winter Klein.

Turn back time Radcliffe

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Title: Turn Back Time

About the book “Turn Back Time” by Radcliffe

Radcliffe is a modern English-language writer working in the romance novel genre. Her popular book, Turn Back Time, is an incredibly heartfelt story that will leave no one indifferent. The epicenter of the story is a story about the difficult destinies of two women, equally devoted to their work. They have practically nothing in common, except for a passionate desire to succeed in the professional field. So how will the relationship between these individuals, so different from each other, but equally obsessed with career ambitions, develop?

Before us is a fascinating story about love and hate, about life’s difficulties and the thorny path to success, about faith in a bright future and the pursuit of personal happiness. This is an incredibly moving work, full of genuine drama and enormous emotional intensity, that needs to be read with the heart.

In her book, Radcliffe tells how, after divorcing her husband, an aspiring surgeon named Winter Thompson makes every effort to pay enough attention to both her favorite work and her maternal responsibilities. These two activities take up almost all of her time, so that there is no time left for other activities. Meanwhile, our heroine stubbornly continues to convince herself that she has absolutely everything she needs in life.

In parallel with Winter's story, we are introduced to the story of another main character named Pierce Rifkin. This girl has a clear vision for her future. A completely grandiose plan is brewing in her head to become the best surgeon at one of the most prestigious American clinics. But in order to achieve her cherished goal, she first of all needs to be collected, so long-term relationships are by no means included in her plans, and her current position is nothing more than another step on the path to fulfilling her dream.

Radcliffe's Turn Back Time introduces us to two self-sufficient and independent girls who know what they want from life and know how to get it. However, due to their duties, encountering each other from time to time, they constantly conflict. These two young women really have nothing in common beyond their ambitions and work ethic. But in this case, what is the reason for such an irreconcilable confrontation? Maybe everyone wants to destroy their rival on the way to their cherished goal? Or do all these hassles have absolutely nothing to do with work? We will read fascinating answers to these and other interesting and controversial questions in this book.

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Radcliffe

Turn back time

Dedicated to Lee

In the past, present and future

Winter Klein squeezed with difficulty under the archway, crowded with students, that led to Perelman's courtyard. The noise there made her ears clog, and the girl wanted to run away from there as quickly as possible. Three hundred fourth-year medical students filled a huge block-sized rectangular courtyard paved with tiles and surrounded by brick buildings in the Victorian style typical of the University of Pennsylvania as a whole. With loud cheers, beer and music, graduates of the university's medical school celebrated one of the most important events in their careers.

Everyone has been waiting for this day for a long time. Every year on this day, a computer program that, using a complex formula, took into account grades, interview results, and the students’ choices themselves, assigned fourth-year students to medical schools where they would undergo residency. Almost ninety-five percent of graduates received distribution. The remaining five percent had to fight tooth and nail for the remaining available resident positions. Otherwise, they were left without a job after years of grueling studies.

Evenings in early May were still chilly, so Winter wore a pale yellow cotton sweater over a white Oxford shirt, khaki chinos, and boat shoes. She was often called a real hipster. It wasn't that she consciously preferred this style, it was just that Winter found these clothes to be the most comfortable. So she rarely paid attention to good-natured, and sometimes Not good, comments from your friends and family about this.

Today she didn't feel like having fun at all. After her shift at the hospital, Winter didn't even change clothes. She felt like a stranger at this celebration of life. The feeling of alienation hit her the moment she picked up the envelope with the distribution results. But before she had time to realize it, the noisy crowd of students around her miraculously dispersed. Now that there were fewer people around, Winter counted at least six kegs, from which beer flowed like a river, and saw tables standing close to each other, on which there were unfinished bottles of alcohol and soda here and there.

A rock band was playing somewhere. Someone tried to shout the song down into the microphone: Winter had the feeling that the speakers were five meters high - her eardrums were shaking so hard. Everyone around rejoiced - or drowned their sorrows in wine. Winter did not yet know what was in store for her – to jump for joy or suffer.

The envelope that held the key to her future (at least the next five years) lay in her back pocket. Winter decided that she would not share this pivotal moment in her life with hundreds of other students, especially given the likely disappointment, and was about to leave.

- Hello! – a rangy African-American man twelve years older than twenty-three-year-old Winter greeted her. He began to push towards her. – You still came. I thought you wouldn't make it.

“The round ended late, and then two crowded trains rushed past.

Winter smiled at Ken Mehr in greeting. It seemed that they had met only a few days ago, and not three years ago, when they stood next to the corpse in a white plastic bag. At first, they were united only by the desire to become a doctor. But after spending many Saturday evenings together in an eerie laboratory over the withered and rotten remains of what was once a living human body, surrounded by death and overwhelmed by the desire to unravel the mysteries of life, they became true friends.

Winter squeezed Ken's hand and tried to say with excitement in her voice:

-What do you have there? Tell us!

– I was sent to anesthesiology.

“Just as you wanted,” Winter hugged her friend’s skinny shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “This is so great, I’m terribly happy for you.” And where to?

Ken's satisfied smile grew even wider. With timid joy on his face, he shook his head in the direction of the turrets of the buildings visible beyond the campus.

- Yes, right here.

Winter had a hard time suppressing a twinge of envy mixed with disappointment. Her friend got one of the best positions, and in tough competition with many students. His dreams are about to come true. But it was not Ken’s fault that she failed to realize her dream as easily as he did. Winter was truly happy for her friend, but her heart was heavy. She forced a smile.

- So, the university hospital is shining for you. This is... the best news. What did your wife say?

Ken laughed.

“Mina told me not to linger here.” She wants to have dinner with me.

“Then you better hurry up, buddy,” Winter warned, frowning and tapping her Seiko watch. - It's eight o'clock now.

- Going. But what about you? – Ken stepped aside and almost pressed closer to Winter to let a group of excited students pass by. - Did they take you to surgery?

- I don't know.

- In what sense?

Winter shrugged uncertainly.

– I haven’t opened the envelope yet.

- Come on? So what are you waiting for?

You still wouldn't understand me even if I tried to explain. I don’t fully understand it myself.

The cell phone on Ken's belt rang, saving her the trouble of answering. Her friend pressed the phone to his ear and shouted, “Hello!” After a few seconds, he closed the flip phone and leaned towards Winter.

- I have to go. Mina called the nanny and told me to come home right away.

- Then hurry up. In just a month you will spend much fewer nights with your wife.

- Call me! – Ken asked, leaving. - Call tomorrow and tell me what you have there.

Winter nodded. After Ken left, only strangers remained around her. She did not know students from other university schools, and she rarely interacted with classmates. Winter studied at the University of Pennsylvania in an accelerated combined program, the completion of which allowed her to receive two degrees at once: a bachelor of science and a doctor of medicine. In addition, she began her internship at Jefferson Medical College a little later than other students. Unlike her classmates, Winter, living in a high-rise building in the city center, preferred to study at home rather than in the library.

During her internship, she spent whole days in the hospital, was on duty at night every third or fourth day and rarely shared shifts with the same students. She had friends, but few friends, at least among doctors. Now that Ken was gone, Winter had no reason to stay. I shouldn't have come here in the first place. I'm a complete stranger here.

Suddenly angry, Winter turned around to leave. Her head jerked back and her chin touched the face of a dark-haired girl. When Winter's eyes cleared, she realized that she was staring into the black eyes of a stranger without looking away. At just over one hundred and seventy centimeters tall, Winter was used to other girls often being shorter than her. Now she herself had to look up, and this surprised her no less than the sudden pain in her jaw.

“Forgive me, for God’s sake,” Winter apologized.

- Wow!

Pierce Rifkin ran a finger over her bruised lip. There was blood on the finger.

“Your lip is broken,” Winter stated and reached out with her hand to the girl’s face. But Pierce grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.

- It’s okay, it’ll heal.

Pierce looked carefully at the girl who had hit her. She saw it for the first time, because she would probably remember it. The girl was slightly shorter than her. Her thick, wavy copper-brown hair with a golden tint hung down to her shoulders, and her eyes were a dazzling blue. A beautiful face and blooming appearance, combined with a slender figure, made the stranger look like a model.

“You’ll have a bruise on your chin,” Pierce said.

“It looks like it,” Winter agreed, feeling a lump already swelling under her fingers. “We could both use some ice.”

Pierce grinned and winked at the girl.

“We’re lucky: I know where there’s a whole carload of ice.” Behind me! – she said, extending her hand to Winter.

Winter looked closely at this hand with long, skillful fingers. The palm was wide, strong and very suitable for this girl with an athletic physique, which was unmistakably visible under a tight dark blue T-shirt and low-slung, faded jeans. Her black hair, casually cut and tousled, ended at neck level, framing an expressive, angular face. The girl looked more like an athlete or a bartender than a future doctor. Winter took her hand, and the stranger's warm fingers wrapped around her palm, after which she was roughly pulled into the thick of the crowd. In order not to crash into those who appeared in their way, Winter pressed herself closer to the back of the girl, who was carrying her along with her.

- What is your name? – Winter shouted.

The dark-haired girl turned around.

- Pierce. And you?

- Winter.

“Keep up, Winter,” Pierce squeezed the girl’s hand even tighter and pulled her closer to her, continuing to energetically push through the crowd. “I wouldn’t want to lose you halfway.”

Winter could feel Pierce's hard muscles working as she paved the way for them. She also felt her stomach pressed against Pierce's back. The feeling was deeply intimate. All this was completely unlike her. Winter was not used to following impulses and was not inclined to let go of the initiative. But, oddly enough, at the moment she was being led by her - or rather, dragged- some kind of stranger. Winter decided that her desire for independence had somehow turned off for a while, and so she did not resist. Besides, she was torn by curiosity. She was terribly curious about who this girl was who was pushing forward with such determination as if the entire campus belonged to her.

- Hey, Pierce, you're bleeding! – some guy shouted.

- Come on? You’re just a genius, a real doctor,” Pierce said, not at a loss.

Rolling laughter accompanied them until Winter forced Pierce to stop.

- So, wait and turn to me.

Pierce, surprised by the force with which Winter pulled her back and the commanding notes in her melodic voice, stopped and turned to face the girl.

- What's happened?

– Did it even occur to you to ask me if I wanted to go with you?

- Nope. Usually everyone listens to me anyway.

- Well, usually everyone listens to me too.

Winter pulled her hand out of Pierce's and examined her injured lip.

“You know, the guy was right, the bleeding is quite heavy.” Do you have a handkerchief?

Pierce just laughed in response.

- Are you serious? You have it yourself is he there?

Winter shook her head with a smile and patted a blonde woman in a medical uniform who happened to be nearby on the back.

– Can I borrow a napkin from you? “Winter pointed to the napkin she was holding in her hand along with the plastic cup.

- I'm sorry, what? – the blonde looked at her with curiosity. But then she recognized Pierce - and her eyes widened: “Oh, Pierce, baby!” What happened to you?

“She’s the one who got me off,” Pierce said in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking her head towards Winter.

- Stop, stop, stop! – Winter protested, and suddenly saw that the surprise on the blonde’s face was being replaced by... jealousy. Jealousy?! Winter looked at Pierce, at the way she spread her legs, at the same time addressing the blonde with a lazy grin and unconsciously glancing over her lips. Winter knew this look, only men usually look at women this way. So this is how it happens.

The girl was clearly angry.

– I wonder what you meant by “she’s so you.” finished off»?

Winter swayed sideways with her whole body. It's time to get out of the line of fire. Pierce laughed and took Winter's hand again.

“Just an accident, Tammy,” Pierce took a napkin, dabbed the blood on her lip and asked Winter: “Is that better?”

Winter examined her again, ignoring the blonde.

“The blood flows more quietly now, but you still need ice.” Suddenly the labial artery is affected.

- Yes, it’s possible. Let’s go, we’re almost there,” Pierce wanted to turn around, but Tammy grabbed her hand.

-Where were you assigned? – she asked with irritation. - However, it’s clear where.

“To the university hospital,” Pierce answered, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

She then pointedly intertwined her fingers with Winter's and pulled her towards her.

- Let's get out of here.

Winter could not move, as the crowd immediately took up any vacated space.

“Listen, I have to...” Winter began.

“You still won’t get out of here quickly, and besides, your face is swelling,” Pierce interrupted her.

- Okay, let's go.

They had to fight their way for another good five minutes until they finally reached the tables where drinks were being poured. Huge coolers were lined up next to them. Pierce filled two plastic cups with ice and handed one to Winter.

– It’s better to put an ice cube directly on your chin and hold it. You'll have a decent bruise.

Winter tried to move her jaw from side to side and felt tension in the area of ​​her ears.

“Looks like I’ll have to wear a bite block for a week,” she sighed.

– Temporomandibular joint? – Pierce clarified.

- Yeah, but it's not that bad. It's just that every now and then my jaw reminds me that I landed on my face too often as a child.

- Climbed trees?

For some reason, Pierce had a hard time imagining Winter playing any kind of contact sport. More like tennis. It's like a nice workout at a country club that won't get you dirty, just a little sweaty, and then lunch in an air-conditioned restaurant. Pierce knew this well, because this was how her mother liked to spend her time.

Winter laughed, remembering how much she wanted to play tennis in her youth.

- No, I was skating. I was taken to the section when I was two years old. I fell on my face so many times trying to do a triple axel that I lost count.

– Did you want to go to the Olympics? – Pierce introduced Winter at the skating rink, the coach was standing next to her, music was pouring from the speakers. Yes, it suits her.

- Did not want. I always dreamed of becoming a doctor. And you?

“I’ve almost always dreamed about this too,” Pierce said, a shadow flashed in her gaze, which made her eyes darken even more. She looked at her hand, to which the blood had dried. - I need to wash myself.

Winter realized that Pierce did not want to discuss this topic with her.

- I will go with you. I need to look at your lip after you wash it. You may need stitches.

- Don't think.

– We will decide this after the inspection.

Pierce grinned despite the pain in her lip. She was not used to giving someone control over the situation. This was out of character and went against the reputation she had built over the past four years. Knowing who she was, those around her automatically looked to her for instructions. It was nice in its own way to realize that someone treated her differently from everyone else.

- Okay, Doc, whatever you say.

“That’s better,” Winter laughed approvingly. “But you lead us, you’re good at it.”

Pierce took the girl's hand again. The movement was so natural that Winter hardly noticed it. Along the way, they tried to stay close to the buildings, avoiding the crowd. So they got to Houston Hall. When they entered the student center, the noise and commotion finally died down.

- God bless! “It’s hoped that in a couple of minutes my brain will start functioning normally again,” Winter muttered. She looked around the room with high arches, marble floors and carved columns. – These ancient buildings are simply amazing!

– What school did you go to? asked Pierce.

- At Jefferson School.

- Yes, you and I are enemies.

Winter stopped, pulled her hand away and looked at Pierce appraisingly.

- University school?

- She's the one.

The two medical schools, separated by twenty blocks, have been at odds since the eighteenth century. Over time, the rivalry became more theoretical, but students from each school still laid claim to the palm.

- Well, then let me to me“Assess the scale of the disaster,” Winter said completely sincerely.

“I could if I didn’t care what my lip looked like after treatment,” Pierce retorted.

The girls glared at each other, not wanting to give in, until suddenly they burst into laughter at the same time.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Pierce suggested, “all the toilets here are overflowing.” “For so many years, she managed to explore the campus like the back of her hand, including finding places that were always free. Pierce led Winter unerringly through the labyrinthine corridors and then up the wide stone staircase. - Here we are.

Pierce opened the door and let Winter in. All three toilet stalls were empty. Winter turned on the cold water and pulled some paper towels out of the dryer, before wetting them and motioning for Pierce to lean over the sink.

“I don’t think there’s any need to say that it’s going to sting now,” Winter warned.

– I can do it myself.

- No doubt. But I can see the wound better. You may cause bleeding again.

“You don’t seem to have much faith in my abilities,” Pierce noted, arching an eyebrow.

“Considering where you studied…” Winter carefully washed the dried blood from Pierce’s lip. - Damn it, the wound goes right along the edge of the lip. Perhaps on her really necessary apply stitches.

“Let’s take a look,” Pierce leaned towards the mirror and squinted. – The damage is not too deep. Maybe a band-aid will suffice.

“And if you don’t, you’ll be left with a pretty noticeable scar,” Winter said emphatically.

- Wow, you sound like a surgeon.

- I hope I will become one. That's my plan.

- Is it true? Where were you assigned?

This was truly the question of the day, but Pierce herself was little worried about this. She already knew where she would do her residency. She always knew this. Suddenly she became very interested in where they were sent Winter.

Confused, Winter sighed.

- Actually I do not know.

- Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Pierce began to hastily apologize. “Maybe I can help you somehow.” For example, find places where there are still free positions.

Winter frowned, trying to comprehend the meaning of these words. It took her a moment to realize that Pierce had misunderstood her.

– Oh, no, it’s not that I wasn’t assigned. More precisely, Maybe, I didn’t get anywhere, but... In fact, I just haven’t opened the envelope yet.

- Are you kidding?! You were given this envelope three hours ago and you still haven’t opened it? But why?

Because it won't be what I want. Winter didn't want to admit it, especially to Pierce, so she tried to find another explanation.

– I was delayed on a round at the hospital. I did not have the opportunity to do this calmly.

Pierce realized that for some reason Winter found this question unpleasant, and did not press further.

– Do you have the envelope with you?

“Yes,” Winter patted her back pocket.

“Then let’s see what’s inside.”

For the first time all evening, Winter really wanted to look into the envelope and share this exciting moment with Pierce. There were no reasons for this, but nevertheless it was so. Taking a deep breath, Winter pulled the envelope out of her pocket and opened it without hesitation. She pulled out a thick card from there and, without looking at the inscription, handed it to Pierce.

Pearce read the verdict to herself first and suppressed a sudden surge of disappointment.

- Surgery. Yale – New Haven,” she said out loud and met Winter’s gaze. - Good place, congratulations.

“Yes,” Winter agreed, without expressing surprise. “Thank you,” she thanked in an even voice.

- Well, let's check the rest.

- What are you talking about? – Winter asked, trying to unravel the strange expression that flashed across Pierce’s face. For a moment she seemed distressed.

Pierce returned the card and cupped Winter's face with both hands, watching as the girl's pupils dilated in surprise.

“Open your mouth,” Pierce asked, placing her thumbs on the temporomandibular joints of Winter’s face. – Slowly and as wide as possible.

Winter felt butterflies swirl in her stomach and her face flush. Pierce's hands were not only strong, but also gentle. The girls stood so close that their thighs were touching.

“Everything seems fine,” Winter muttered as Pierce carefully felt her knuckles. Everything... just wonderful.

Pierce ran her fingers along Winter's chin.

- Hurt?

Winter shook her head. She couldn't feel her chin at all. All her senses focused on Pierce, on her burning skin. Winter's breathing quickened, and Pierce's breathing was also ragged. Her eyes darkened so that her pupils merged with her irises. Winter had no doubt that she could drown in this night pool.

“Pierce...” whispered Winter. Whatever is happening between them now cannot be allowed to happen, she thought. But when the girl again plunged into the bottomless pools that Pierce's eyes had become, she forgot all the reasons why she should stop. Winter forced herself to concentrate: “Don’t.”

- Hmm? – Pierce drawled and tilted her head to inhale Winter’s scent. She put her hand on the girl's neck and very tenderly kissed her on the place on her chin where the bruise was spreading. Pierce felt a slight tingling on her lips and some tension in her body.

- That's better?

“Much better,” Winter replied in a teasing tone, trying to defuse the situation.

“It’s getting better and better,” Pierce said and, closing her eyes, began to lean down to kiss the girl.

“Pierce... wait...” whispered Winter. At that moment her phone rang. The sound seemed simply deafening and made her twitch. Winter awkwardly fumbled for her cell phone, unable to take her eyes off Pierce. Her lips were so close. Winter said in a trembling voice, “Hello.” She listened to what she was told, without taking her eyes off the carotid artery that was pulsating in Pierce's throat. – I thought you wouldn’t come. Fine. I'm on the toilet. “I’ll be right there,” Winter said. She closed the phone and said in a hoarse voice: “I have to go.”

- Why? – Pierce asked, continuing to stroke the girl’s neck and comb through the hair on the back of her head. Pierce could not be mistaken, this look with which Winter looked at her was well known to her: other girls looked at her this way, but for the first time someone managed to excite her so much.

- Do you have a date?

“No,” said Winter, carefully freeing herself from Pierce’s embrace, although not from her spell, “it was my husband who called.”

Frozen in place, Pierce didn't say a word as Winter walked around her and hurried away. When the door closed behind the girl and Pierce was left alone, she bent down and picked up a forgotten white card from the floor. Winter must have dropped it. Pierce ran her thumb over the printed letters on the card, then tucked it into her breast pocket.

Goodbye Winter Klein.

Four years later

Just as Pierce pulled into the parking lot of her pale blue '67 Thunderbird convertible on South Street near the University Museum, her pager beeped.

“Damn,” Pierce cursed and took out her pager to read the message. It's five in the morning, and there's not a moment of peace! But the message was not from a nurse at Rhoads Pavilion, where the surgical wards were located. The call came from the head of the department. The secretary couldn't write this early. So he calls her himself.

- Damn it!

She parked in the far corner next to the security booth. This place was worth more, but Pierce couldn't afford to have some idiot denting her car, which had taken so long to restore. Pierce knew that the guards would look after her machine, because she gave them a bonus every month.

- Hello, Charlie! – she shouted, getting out of the car.

“Good morning, doctor,” replied the skinny retired policeman. He wore his security uniform with the same pride that he had worn in his Philadelphia Police uniform all thirty years before. “Maybe we should have left the baby at home today?” They promise rain. And it might snow there if it gets colder.

“Then I’ll leave her here until spring,” Pierce shouted, heading towards the exit. The telephone in the garage did not work. Rain or snow, what difference does it make: she will spend the next 24 hours on duty, but in fact - at least thirty hours. - Look after my girl!

Charlie laughed and saluted after Pierce.

Walking out onto the sidewalk, she made a phone call using speed dial. When they answered her, she said:

- Rifkin.

“Can you stop by my office before your morning rounds?”

The intonation on the other end of the line was questioning, but Pierce knew that this was not a request.

- Yes, sir. I'm already near the hospital.

“Then come in right now.”

Pierce didn’t have time to say anything when her interlocutor disconnected. Your mother!

She mentally went through all the patients the head of the department was treating. Maybe something happened to one of them and she hasn’t been told about it yet? There was a junior surgical resident on duty at night, but he knew that he had to contact her for any problem, no matter how minor. However, she was left with only a few routine questions about blood transfusions and antibiotics.

Her family's home was only forty minutes away in Bryn Mawr, and Pierce could easily have had an entire wing at her disposal, along with the privacy she needed. But she preferred to live in an apartment in West Philadelphia so that the trip to the hospital would take no more than fifteen minutes. Pierce didn't like finding out about sudden problems early in the morning, and calling the department manager at such an early hour could only mean trouble. Crap!

Pierce entered the empty elevator. On the second floor he stopped, and a blonde with dark circles under her eyes entered the elevator. There was a blood stain that looked like a Rorschach test spread across the left leg of her uniform trousers. She held a crumpled piece of paper in her right hand, examining it as if it were the Holy Grail. Pierce knew what the piece of paper was: it was a list of all the patients a particular resident was seeing. The list contained coded information about the patient's date of admission to the hospital and the date of surgery, as well as appointments and recent tests, especially those that were outside the normal range. When the attending surgeon needed to clarify any information about the patient, the resident looked for it in this list. And although all residents carried PDAs with them, and each nursing station was equipped with computers, all the information was still usually taken from a paper list.

Without this important piece of paper, residents often provided incomplete or incorrect information, after which they soon had to look for another job. At least once a day, some resident would rush through the corridors in despair, tormenting everyone he met: “Have you seen my list? I lost it. Has anyone seen my list?!”

“Hi, Tam,” Pierce greeted the blonde. - How are you?

Tammy Reynolds looked up from her list and blinked as if she had just been awakened. Then she smiled slowly, and her eyes became less tired.

- Hi Hi. I haven't seen you at the bar in a while. Are you really hiding, or has someone appeared who is wasting all your time?

- Did not guess. I am, after all, a senior resident, and I have quite a lot to do.

“I know exactly what you do at work,” Tammy moved closer to Pierce, put her hand on her waist and began to lightly stroke her body through her pale green uniform shirt with her thumb. - I'm interested, How do you spend your time outside of work? When you want something, lack of time usually doesn't stop you.

Pierce moved away from the girl to a safe distance. The elevator stopped at the fifth floor, and she didn't want anyone to see them when the doors opened. And she didn’t want Tammy’s tenderness, at least not now.

- I have to go. Don't get carried away.

- Call me! “I’m on oncology duty this month,” Tammy said after Pierce. “We could play hospital with you, baby.”

Pierce waved goodbye to the girl, relieved that no one was nearby to hear Tam's words. She didn't care what her fellow residents knew or thought about her, but she preferred that the administrative staff not make judgments about her personal life, especially her own missteps.

Pierce walked down the dark red-carpeted hallway toward the large corner office. All staff surgeons' offices were located in one corner on the fifth floor. Adjacent to them was a recreation room. The operating rooms were on the other side of the building and occupied the remaining floor space. Thanks to this layout, surgeons could work quietly in their office while awaiting surgery. Since operations often started late, surgeons did not waste time - and this is what they hated most.

The secretaries' desks, separated from the corridor by partitions, were still empty. The doors to the offices were closed. The administrative staff will begin work only at half past nine. By this time, almost all surgeons will be in operating rooms.

Pierce walked happily along the quiet deserted corridors. She liked this calm before the storm. However, looking at the yellow dial of her sports watch, she frowned. The clock showed fifteen minutes past six. If the meeting with the department manager lasted more than a few minutes, she would be late for the meeting with the other residents and thereby set a bad example. As chief resident, Pierce created the daily schedule, assigned junior residents as surgical assistants, and oversaw night shifts. She was always on time, even a little early, serving as an example to everyone else and counting on the punctuality of others. She basically counted on many things and punished the guilty.

The residents who cared for the department head's patients reported to Pierce. Work on this shift was considered the most troublesome in the entire general surgery department. Even more power was wielded only by the chief surgical resident, who was responsible for his shift and the outpatient clinic.

“I hope it won’t be long,” Pierce muttered out loud, approaching the closed door of the department head’s office. Next to the door hung a discreet plastic sign that read: “Ambrose P. Rifkin, MD, Department Chief.”

Pierce knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she heard.

The manager's desk stood in the far corner of the office, angled toward two tall windows, to which Ambrose Rifkin sat with his back to it, as if the outside world distracted him, or at least did not arouse the slightest interest in him. In addition, the sun was shining at his back, and his visitors - in the eyes. He always knew how to take a position advantageous to himself.

“Pierce,” Ambrose Rifkin greeted her, making an inviting gesture towards the two chairs that stood in front of his wide walnut desk. Dark furniture and thick-pile carpets gave the office a classic look, substantial and rich, befitting its owner. Although the department head was over fifty, there was not a hint of gray in his thick black hair. He had an aristocratic, aquiline profile and a toned body (thanks to playing squash twice a week). Ambrose Rifkin exuded the aura of a man accustomed to command. He really was like that.

“Sir,” Pierce addressed him, sitting down in a chair.

They saw each other last night when she assisted him during a lower anterior colon resection. They did not speak during the operation. Pierce only told him the patient's medical history, and he asked her to outline the progress of the operation to remove the tumor. Her answer was laconic and to the point. For an hour and a half after this, Ambrose Rifkin did not utter a word. Having finished, he stepped away from the operating table and said:

- I have a meeting, sew her up.

And he left without waiting for an answer. Pierce found herself lost in thought when a well-placed baritone voice brought her back to reality. It turns out that she listened to what he told her and only caught the last word “resident.”

Pierce straightened up, resting her hands on the wooden arms of the chair. She was careful not to cling to the chair and show her nervousness.

- Sorry, sir. I didn't understand what you mean.

Ambrose Rifkin frowned, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes.

– I said that we are taking on another resident.

- In January?

The residency usually started on the first of July, and it was very strange to start residency training on any other date. Pierce couldn't remember anything like this.

“We have an opening for a third-year resident since Eliot decided he couldn't cut it.” Now we can fill it out. Are you dissatisfied with something?

- No, sir, but why does he change the program in the middle of the year?

Ambrose Rifkin grinned wryly.

- Not him and she.

Pierce blushed, knowing full well that her interlocutor was delighted by this inadvertent confirmation that surgical residents were usually men. Moreover, according to Ambrose Rifkin and his peers, surgical residents must be only men. Pierce was one of the few exceptions to this residency program. And although the number of female surgeons grew from year to year, this specialty remained the privilege of men. Pierce chose to remain silent so as not to fall into a new trap.

“Technically, she is a fourth-year resident, but she missed six months due to... personal circumstances, after which she worked in the emergency department for several months,” it was said in a dismissive tone. “But she has a good track record, and I know the director of her program.” He says she has golden hands.

It was the highest compliment one surgeon could pay another. It is better for a surgeon to be the most skillful than the smartest. When a patient was brought in with a ruptured vessel, and the person could die within twenty seconds from loss of blood, brains might not help. At such a moment, the most important thing was that the surgeon’s hands did not shake.

– When does she start?

- She should come at seven in the morning.

– Today?

– Are you having any difficulties, Dr. Rifkin?

“No, sir,” Pierce answered quickly, mentally changing her daily routine. Every evening when she left the hospital, she carefully checked the surgery schedule to make sure nothing had been changed without her knowledge. Nothing could make a surgeon more angry before an operation than the absence of an available resident who was supposed to assist him.

Unfortunately, sometimes secretaries canceled or, worse, added operations without notifying the residents, but in this case it was they who bore the brunt. Pierce had already assigned all the residents for the day - there was no one left to bring the new girl up to speed.

“Uh, maybe Connie can take care of her this morning while I finish with the aneurysm?” – she suggested.

Connie Lang was the faculty administrator and managed the residents.

– Call Dzubrov and tell him that he will assist in this operation. His work in the laboratory can wait.

Pierce barely restrained herself from objecting. Resection of an abdominal aortic aneurysm was a major operation, usually assisted by the senior resident on duty, and today she was.

Pierce was trying to get every major surgery she could so she could become chief surgical resident next year. Among the other fourth-year residents, Henry Dzubrov was her only real rival. He was supposed to spend the next six months in the trauma lab, but it seemed to Pierce that he found himself in the operating room whenever possible.

She stood up, realizing that if she was delayed, she would begin to complain about the privileges that Dzubrov had always received, and thereby put herself at risk. The surgical resident never complains about anything. Pierce still remembered her first day of residency. Her father stood in front of twenty-five first-year residents who nervously awaited his instructions. With an inscrutable face, he swept his icy blue eyes around the audience, not lingering on his daughter, as if she was no different from the others. Pierce remembered his words well and knew that he was serious.

If you don't like something here, you just need to come to me and tell me about it. There are fifty applicants for each of your positions, and I guarantee that they will be happy to take your place. Never forget that being here is a privilege, not a right.

With that opening statement, Ambrose Rifkin glanced around at the residents in front of him, this time lingering on Pierce longer than the others. You can lose your privileges it was as if his gaze spoke.

– What’s her last name? asked Pierce.

The department head looked at the folder lying on his desk.

- Thompson.

Ambrose Rifkin did not add anything more, and Pierce left, closing the office door tightly behind her, although she was not asked to do so. She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to get rid of the anger and frustration that always gripped her when interacting with her father. They were comfortable with each other only in the operating room. It was probably time for Pierce to get used to this, but she couldn’t.

– Is it already hard, even though the day has just begun?

Pierce jumped in surprise and turned around. Connie Lang stood behind her, holding two paper cups of coffee and a box of Dunkin Donuts.

- As usual. “You’re early today,” Pierce answered.

Connie jerked her head towards the closed door.

“He has a budget meeting at half past six,” she explained, smiling, with a predatory twinkle in her eyes. “And he knows very well that early in the morning officials are slow to think, so he has more opportunities to get what he wants.”

– Doesn’t he always get what he wants?

Connie wisely remained silent in response.

– Did he tell you about the new resident?

Pierce nodded.

“She’s already downstairs, with the administrator.” I heard her asking how to get to the surgeons' lounge.

- God! Has she already arrived?!

Connie smiled again.

– The energy is in full swing. Isn't that what you want from your residents?

“Oh yes, I can’t wait to meet you,” Pierce said with a sigh and headed towards the elevators. - I'll go find her. How does she look?

- A little shorter than you, pretty. Shoulder-length hair, copper-brown mixed with blonde. She is wearing a dark blue uniform.

“I see,” Pierce said.

I wonder what Connie meant by "pretty." Pierce was already bored with going on dates with nurses and fellow residents. She hadn't dated any of them for long, and she didn't have time to look for anyone else. So new faces, especially cute ones, were very welcome. Maybe things aren't so bad after all.

Pierce turned the corner towards the elevators and at the end of the corridor, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a girl in a dark blue uniform walking towards the break room.

- Hey, wait! – Pierce shouted and hurried forward. “You’re new...” Pierce paused, her voice trailing off at the sight of a face she didn’t expect to see ever again. Winter's face lost the tender youthful plumpness, her features became sharper - now they belonged to a beautiful woman. Winter looked tired, but that was to be expected. She looked slimmer than Pierce remembered, as if she had been jogging regularly all these years.

-Are you...Thompson? We have met…

“Yes, it’s me,” Winter said quickly, not wanting to remember that meeting, the meaning of which had eluded her until now. She expected to run into Pierce sooner or later because she knew she was assigned to the university hospital. However, Winter did not expect that this meeting would happen so soon and even in such a format.

-You're Pierce, aren't you?

“Yes, that’s right,” Pierce confirmed, mentally trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The card from the envelope said Winter Klein. Pierce was absolutely sure of this because the card still remained tucked into the corner of the mirror on her dressing table. Why she never threw it away after all these years, Pierce herself did not understand. This is my husband's last name A guess struck her. Thompson is her married name.

“I...start today,” Winter said into the silence that hung between them.

“I know,” Pierce tried to hide her shock.

It wasn't about who Winter was, or about the... something that had happened between them four years ago. Pierce had to do everything to stay on schedule; she had to regain control of the situation.

“I’m your senior resident, and we only have two minutes to meet the other residents in time.” Follow me,” with these words Pierce turned around and swung open the fire exit door leading to the stairs.

Winter tried to keep up.

So she's a senior resident?! God, this means we'll be working side by side with her every day for the next four or five months. You can imagine what Pierce thought of her. Winter practically allowed her, a complete stranger, to kiss her, and in the toilet too. And what's even worse is that after that she just left without saying a word. How much more stupid or even rude? In recent years, Winter often thought about that meeting. She regretted that evening for many reasons. Taking a deep breath, Winter tried to push away the memories. All this remained in the past and had no relation to the present. Now she had much more important things to do.

– We work on the shift of the head of Rifkin’s department? – Winter asked Pierce behind her.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Pierce pushed the door open with her shoulder, belatedly holding it open for Winter. Reluctantly, she began the lecture about local rules and regulations. She always didn't like doing this, but now, before visiting patients, the moment was much more inappropriate, because any inattention could cost her dearly.

“Did Connie give you the shift schedule?”

“Not yet,” Winter answered, trying to keep up with Pierce, who had sped up again. “It all happened pretty quickly; I had an interview with Dr. Rifkin just a couple of days ago. Connie checked me in last night and gave me a parking sticker, pay slip, and employee health card. All she said was that I was starting Rifkin's shift this morning and that someone would meet me at seven in the morning.

– Have you met any of the residents yet?

Pierce clenched her teeth. Her father, being the head of the department, could hire whoever he wanted, but it was highly unusual to interview a new resident without informing at least one of the senior residents. He must have known for several days that Winter would be on this shift, but he did not warn Pierce. She was ignored, but who said that democracy reigns in hospitals?

“You didn’t know anything about me, did you?” – Winter asked quietly.

Not surprisingly, she doesn't like this situation.

“What difference does it make?” Pierce stopped and turned to face her. The hospital gradually woke up, nurses and other staff were hurrying somewhere, preparing for a shift change. Together they resembled an island in the middle of a sea of ​​people dressed in white coats that surrounded them. – We have been missing one resident since September. One of the third year guys decided to switch to anesthesiology. We see fifty patients per shift, and that's every third night.

After these words, Winter turned pale.

– Every third night? It's hard.

Pierce grinned, a wild twinkle in her dark eyes.

“Nothing has changed here in the last sixty years.” We do not have substitutions while on duty. Each operation has its own on-duty residents. I don't think Connie told you about this.

“I think she just didn’t think about it,” Winter said discreetly. She tried not to give herself away and regain her balance. Her strength was being tested, and she was not going to give in. “And even if she warned me about it, what difference does it make?” I was just surprised.

- Yes, that’s how it is with us. Not that this is the norm, but there are rules here.

- No problem.

– Every day we gather in the cafeteria at half past five in the morning. Therefore, before this, you should already examine your patients and know their indicators, such as blood pressure, and tests.

Winter nodded, doing the math in her head. If she needs to arrive at the hospital at five in the morning, then she will have to get up at four. She can handle it! She had to cope, she had no choice.

Pierce turned sharply to the left, and, going down the stairs, they found themselves in the cafeteria, located on the ground floor. The round tables were already occupied by residents and students, most of whom were dressed in medical uniforms and white coats.

“Let's have some coffee,” Pierce suggested.

“Amen,” Winter muttered with relief.

As they stood in line, Pierce continued her explanation.

– There are four residents working per shift, not counting you: two first year, one second year, and me.

-Are you in charge?

“The rest of the fourth-year residents are busy in the lab, on other shifts in general surgery, or doing vascular work.” Pierce grabbed a bagel and a box of cream cheese, then poured herself a half-liter paper cup of coffee to the brim. – We have only one position of chief surgical resident. The remaining fifth-year residents are assigned to other hospitals.

Judging by the tone in which these words were spoken, Pierce considered anyone who finished a residency at a university hospital not as a chief surgical resident to be a loser, Winter thought. And she could understand why. Killing five years of your life and finishing second - well, no. Winter has already lost one year. She had to accept the position of third-year resident, otherwise surgery could be completely forgotten. She felt anger well up in her soul and tried to quickly suppress it. What is done is done. Now all she had to do was move forward.

– If there are five residents working per shift, why are we on duty every third night?

Pierce handed ten dollars to the cashier and asked him to count them both. Winter protested.

“It’s a tradition: the senior resident always treats the newbie to coffee for the first time,” Pierce explained, looking over her shoulder at Winter. – As for our shift, you and I look after the first-year residents, plus the second-year resident helps us with this, so it turns out that there are three of us and we work every third night. The head of the department does not trust first-year students enough to leave them alone with patients.

Winter played this diagram in her head. Two first year residents and one second year, who was also technically considered a junior resident. And one Pierce. The ends didn't meet.

– Who then insures the second first-year student if you are the only senior resident on duty?

- I am. So you and I have to split up shifts now so I can keep an eye on one of the first years in one night.

– In one night?! – Winter tried to hold back a cry of horror. Such a work schedule can drive anyone into the grave. Winter worked like this only a few times when another resident was unable to come out due to exceptional family circumstances or became so ill that he was unable to get out of bed. Winter remembered well one of the main commandments of surgeons: “The only reason you can’t go to work is a funeral, and your own.”

– How long have you been working in this mode? – she asked Pierce.

She shrugged. It made no difference to her whether she was on duty or not. She was always nearby. It was necessary. She knew what she wanted and what it cost.

- For some time.

- It's clear.

Winter thought it wouldn't be too smart to bring up the new eighty-four hour rule. In theory, residents of any specialty were officially prohibited from working more than eighty-four hours a week. In addition, they were entitled to one day off per week, and they had to go home immediately after their daily duty at the hospital. However, in surgery, all these rules were often interpreted in their own way.

It was believed that surgery could only be studied in practice, that is, in the operating room, and if operations were on the schedule, then residents had to be present there at any time of the day or night. Residents who expressed dissatisfaction with their assignment to operations often subsequently received the most uninteresting cases or were expelled from residency altogether. Programs like the University of Pennsylvania initially recruited more residents with the expectation that not all of them would make it to their fifth year.

Winter couldn't afford to lose this position. If she has to work a hundred hours a week, well, she'll work her butt off. You just need to adjust a few things in your personal life.

“And here is our team,” Pierce said and shook her head towards the table at which three young men were sitting. “Guys, I brought reinforcements,” she added, sitting down on a chair. Pierce did not apologize for being late.

Winter sat between Pierce and a slender Asian man who looked too young to be a doctor in his own right. Must be one of the first years. She nodded to each of them in turn, trying to remember their names: Liu, Kenny and Bruce. The guys greeted her with grumbling and a short “hello.” It was not difficult to tell which of them was on duty at night: he was unshaven and smelled of sweat. But Winter was not embarrassed. The stressful work brought the residents together, and the camaraderie helped them endure a lot.

Winter was acutely aware of the presence of Pierce, sitting to her left and radiating such powerful energy that Winter could feel it on her skin. She still remembered Pierce's hot hands. All the years that have passed, these memories have been as bright and hot as the touch itself.

“Bring us up to date, Kenny, and you can be free,” Pierce said.

Exhausted, Kenny shook his head.

– I want to stay for laparoscopy of the gallbladder, which Miller does.

– There is a similar operation on the schedule for tomorrow, you can assist there. Your shift ends at eight in the morning, so take advantage of it.

Kenny was not happy about this proposal, but still nodded. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket, unfolded it, and began to read.

– Ward 1213, Konstantin, femoral-popliteal anastomosis, fourth day after surgery. The maximum temperature for the day is 38.3, the current one is 37.7. I pulled out the drain and told him to get out of bed and sit in a chair three times a day.

- Pulse? – Pierce asked, making notes for herself on a blank sheet of paper.

– Plus four in the tibialis posterior muscle.

Pierce raised her head.

– And in the dorsal artery of the foot?

“I couldn’t find it.”

– Was it not felt or was it you who couldn’t count it?

Seeing the expression on Piers Kenny's face, he became embarrassed.

– I can’t answer this question.

- So go and find out. Next.

Winter leaned over to Pierce and asked for a piece of paper. Pierce silently handed the paper to Winter, who immediately began making her notes. It took about twenty minutes more to discuss the remaining fifty patients. At the same time, two other residents voiced the information that they were supposed to report. They finished at six fifteen.

“Liu, you have a mastectomy at eight with Frankel.” Bruce, you're on amputation with Weinstein, and you, Kenny, get out of here. Thompson and I are on the floor.

– What about the department’s aneurysm operation?

Pierce carefully folded the piece of paper with notes and placed it in her breast pocket.

– Dzubrov will do this.

The guys looked at each other, but refrained from commenting.

- So, go ahead and sing. Make all necessary notes before operations. I don't want to clean up after you.

Winter waited until the other residents collected their papers, took their trays, and left.

– It seems you didn’t get the operation because of me?

- Not in this case.

Pierce took her smartphone out of the case on her belt, where she also had a simple pager and a code pager. All these devices pulled her pants down, and they almost fell off her.

- Do you have?

Winter silently pulled out her PDA from her breast pocket.

– I’ll give you my mobile number, my pager and the guys’ pagers. Connie will give you all the necessary faculty numbers.

- And the number of the department head? Winter asked as Pierce sent her the promised numbers over the wireless connection.

Pierce grinned. Yes, Winter is definitely not stupid, however, this was evident when she was still a student. You had to know the number of the department head by heart.

- And your?

This is the second most important number.

“Now I have everything I need,” Winter said, smiling faintly.

- Then let's go on a tour. Let's make a round and I'll tell you about the attending doctors.

– How many more are there besides Rifkin?

-What about him? The heads of the department usually no longer perform many operations.

Pierce shook her head.

- This is not about him. He performs four to five major surgeries three days a week.

- Wow! How does he do this?

“He works in two operating rooms from eight in the morning until midnight on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

– And on Fridays? – Winter asked with a heavy sigh.

- Yes, and it sucks, especially considering that the night from Friday to Saturday may be the only free night you have all weekend.

– It turns out that the senior resident also needs to be in both operating rooms? – asked Winter.

– You pick it up on the fly. Yes, you and I start and finish his operations,” Pierce confirmed, “and he walks between operating rooms and does the most important part, this satisfies the requirements of the insurance companies.

Winter didn't want to overload Pierce with questions, but she seemed willing to share information that promised to make Winter's life a lot easier. So she continued.

– Does he allow you to do anything?

- Always different. How good are you yourself?

- What do you think?

This question came out of Winter on its own; she didn’t even understand why she asked it. The first days in a new place are always difficult. Now she had to prove her worth again. She didn't expect to see Pierce here, and especially not on the first day and not in such an environment. The meeting with Pierce stunned Winter. She was confused by the fact that they would see each other every day, and every day she would again wonder if Pierce remembered those few minutes when something so strong arose between them that the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. Winter remembered this moment, although she decided not to waste time on the memories.

“Well, you were right about my lip,” Pierce said quietly.

Winter looked carefully at Pierce’s face: a white scar was visible on the border of her lip.

“I told you, I needed stitches.”

“Yes, I did,” Pierce agreed and stood up abruptly. - Let's go to.

“Okay,” Winter answered quickly and also rose from her seat.

Winter didn’t even hear Pierce’s answer, the noise was so loud in her ears. She stared at Pierce as she finally got the whole picture together in her head. Winter remembered the sign next to the office door: Ambrose P. Rifkin, MD. Ambrose Pier Rifkin.

- So you are related to the head of the department? – she asked in complete amazement.

- He is my father.

“It’s so nice of you to tell me about this,” Winter snapped, frantically trying to remember if she had blurted out anything unnecessary about the head of the department. - God!

Pierce looked at her coldly.

- What's the difference?

“It just doesn’t bother me to know about it.”

Pierce leaned toward Winter.

- How is it with your husband then?

Before Winter could find anything to say, Pierce turned and walked away.

Oh God, she never forgave me. But Winter hasn’t forgiven herself either.

“You don’t usually do rounds, do you?” – Winter asked, trying to keep up with Pierce.

Attending physicians most often delegated daily patient care to residents, who had to change bandages, remove stitches, order tests, replenish medications, and do many other routine things. The most senior resident on duty ensured that everything necessary was carried out regularly by the junior residents. Pierce should be freed from this "dirty work."

– During my duty, I examine every patient who needs to be examined. All the tedious duties fall on the junior residents, but I make sure they don’t miss anything,” Pierce replied.

As they rushed forward, Winter tried to remember the way so as not to get lost when she later found herself here alone. The University Hospital was a labyrinth of interconnected buildings that had been built at various times over the last hundred years. To the uninitiated, it was an ill-conceived and chaotic mix of narrow passages, bridges and tunnels. Winter was usually good at directions, but now she realized that this was not the case.

“Thank you for showing me everything here,” she began to thank Pierce, when she suddenly turned sharply to the right and led her into another dark and narrow flight of stairs. If she always walks so fast, I’m clearly not in danger of being overweight.

“It’s my job,” Pierce said, shrugging and stepping up the step.

This was not entirely true, and Winter understood it. Other residents wouldn't have even scratched the surface, leaving her to fend for herself in a new place and with new patients. And they wouldn’t check patients twice, like Pierce. And although Winter barely knew the girl, Pierce's professionalism did not surprise her. She remembered how gently Pierce held her, examining her chin. Her gaze was completely focused, but there was compassion in it, and her hands...

- Oh! – Winter screamed, stumbling, and put her hand forward to soften the blow of the fall, but instead found herself in Pierce’s arms. They landed on the steps together.

- Hmm. My God, are you always like this?– Pierce muttered displeasedly.

“You won’t believe it, but usually my coordination is fine,” Winter breathed.

She tried to assess the damage, checking her arms and legs in turn, feeling strangely uneasy at the feel of Pierce's body spread out beneath her. The pain in her left knee did not prevent Winter from reacting to Pierce's strong and slender thigh, which was between her legs. Pierce's heart was beating directly against her chest, and Winter felt Pierce's warm breath fanning her neck.

- Sorry! Where does it hurt?

“I don’t know yet,” Pierce muttered. I can only feel you. Pierce deliberately kept her hands at her sides, since any movement of her could make their position even more intimate. Winter's body was soft in all the right places, and all her hollows fit perfectly into Pierce's body, as if one spoon fit into another. It seems like I haven't had anyone for too long. That's just the point.

“Maybe you’ll still get up from me?” Otherwise, the dent from the step will remain on my back for the rest of my days.

- Oh God, of course! Sorry.

Winter placed her palms on the next step on either side of Pierce's shoulders and pulled herself up. Unfortunately, this caused her lower abdomen to press even further into Pierce's stomach. Winter heard a sharp sigh, when suddenly a hot wave suddenly rushed down her own spine.

- Oh! - she burst out

- Are you in pain? – Pierce asked, trying to stop the trembling in her voice. A couple more seconds of such close contact and she can’t vouch for herself. Her thighs were already trembling, and the muscles in her stomach were cramping. - God, how good it is to be with you.

- What? – Winter asked through the incomprehensible sensations that washed over her.

– Do you have any pain? – Pierce muttered, trying to suppress the desire that gripped her.

“Oh no,” Winter answered quickly. It's quite the opposite.

She briefly wondered if Pierce was always this hot. Even through her clothes, Winter could feel Pierce's body burning. It was a strong and strong body, but strikingly different from the male one Winter was accustomed to. However, she had not had the opportunity to be so close to someone for a long time. With all the caution, Winter rolled to the side and lay on her back next to Pierce, staring at the yellowed, stained ceiling.

– What do we have in the end? – asked Winter.

Pierce sat down on the step and rested her elbows on her knees. As if it’s not enough that I’ll be on edge all day without any hope of quick relief?! She rubbed her neck; the muscles there were stiff because she had to hold her head up to keep it from hitting the steps. Then Pierce carefully moved her back from side to side.

- Everything seems to be working. How are you?

“I hit my kneecap pretty good,” Winter admitted, knowing full well that Pierce may have saved her from a much more serious injury. She carefully stretched out her leg and bent it several times. - Thank you.

“Let me take a look,” Pierce went down a few steps, leaned over and grabbed Winter’s shin with both hands.

“Pull up your pant leg so I can inspect your knee.”

- Yes, everything is fine, just a bruise...

- I'll decide for myself. An x-ray may need to be taken.

- Listen, we need to make a detour...

“Lord, are you going to argue with me every word?” – Pierce said with irritation.

“I'm just trying to save us time.” We have to get around to the patients.

“And we’ll go around them as soon as we check what’s wrong with you.” So go ahead and pull up your pant leg.

Winter had to obey: Pierce was looming over her, and she had nowhere to go. She had a ten-centimeter abrasion under her kneecap, which was already swollen. At Pierce's request, Winter straightened her leg, watching as Pierce's fingers probed her knee. Golden hands - in every sense of the word. Confident, skillful and gentle, they seemed to flutter over the leg, thanks to which this process, although essentially a medical examination, acquired an intimate tone. Winter had always felt trusted by her patients, and now she felt that trust in Pierce herself.

- Does it hurt here? asked Pierce, feeling the tendons around her knee joint.

- No normal. I'm sure everything will work out.

Pierce looked up at Winter and frowned, causing her dark eyebrows to knit together.

-You're a bad patient.

- I've already been told this. Can I get up now?

“Just don’t rush,” Pierce straightened up and extended her hand to Winter. “And don’t lean entirely on that leg yet.” First, lean on my shoulder.

Winter took Pierce's hand and allowed herself to be led forward. However, she did not rely on Pierce. Stop snuggling with each other. Winter wanted to feel independent again. There's no way she'll let anyone think that she's not as skilled as Pierce. Winter gradually leaned on her leg with all her weight.

- Everything is fine.

- Fine.

Pierce noticed that Winter avoided unnecessary touching and chalked it up to straight women's general reluctance to get too close to her, even if they didn't care that she was gay. For some reason this made them feel a little uneasy. Pierce usually didn't pay attention to this, but now she was surprised to feel a pang of disappointment. She let go of Winter's hand.

- Then one more flight.

- No problem.

Now Pierce walked behind Winter, who set the pace, and carefully watched the girl's gait, rejoicing in the absence of signs of a limp. They reached a short hallway that ended in a sleek brown metal door. Pierce nodded in response to Winter's questioning look. Then Winter opened the door, and together they walked into the brightly lit hall opposite the surgeons' lounge.

Winter looked around, frowning.

- Damn it! I could have sworn we were on the fourth floor.

Pierce leaned against the wall, rhythmically tugging back and forth on the drawstring of her pants. She grinned, enjoying being a tour guide and not wondering why.

“We were on the fourth floor in the Malone building.” That's just the fourth floor Togo building connects to fifth floor of this. And don't ask me how it happened.

-Are you kidding me?

Pierce shook her head slowly.

- It seems I'm in trouble.

- You're not in trouble. It’s my job to make sure you don’t get into trouble,” Pierce pushed off the wall and headed towards the elevator, where she pressed the button "up" “We usually walk, but now I’ll give you a break.”

“Here’s another thing, I can climb the stairs just fine.”

- Or maybe I I can’t,” Pierce said.

Winter snorted, but smiled.

“I have a feeling I’ll have to draw a map or scatter bread crumbs behind me.”

“Just be careful, and in a few days you will know all the secrets of this place.”

- Is it true? – Winter looked around Pierce’s face in an attempt to find a catch. They've been alone for almost an hour, but they still haven't talked about it. the only one moment when they were together in the past. They needed to clarify the situation. Winter felt it was necessary. But she didn't want to broach the subject first. She didn't want to find out that Pierce had been angry with her all these years or, conversely, didn't think about her at all.

“It’s not that complicated,” Pierce said, turning away from Winter’s gaze. She didn't know what might have shown on her face, but she didn't want Winter to think that their first meeting, which had happened several years ago, meant anything to her now. So much water has flowed under the bridge over the years. Pierce is clearly a different person. The arrival of the elevator saved her from further thoughts on this topic.

- Let's start from the very top.

- Of course, go ahead.

A few minutes later, they emerged into a dimly lit hallway and Pierce began to explain.

– There are two wings on each floor. The main surgical floors are the twelfth, tenth, ninth and eighth. Intensive care on the sixth floor.

– It turns out that intensive care is not on the same floor as the operating rooms? I hate transporting patients after surgery in an elevator! – Winter moaned.

“I don’t like doing this either,” Pierce agreed with her. “But after the number of operating rooms increased, intensive care could no longer fit on this floor.

– How many operating rooms are there?

– Twelve general surgery operating rooms, four gynecological operating rooms, four orthopedic operating rooms and several more without a specific purpose.

– You won’t get bored here.

“What is true is true,” Pierce walked along the corridor to the left and pointed to the first door. – This is patient E.P.R.

- Well, wait. What kind of E.P.R.? – Winter asked, frowning and trying to find this abbreviation in her list.

– We usually call patients by the initials of their treating physicians. This is the patient Rifkin is caring for.

– The colon resection that was performed yesterday, right? – Winter asked, continuing to run her eyes over the names of the patients. McInerney.

- Yes, that's her. We finished at six in the evening, ordinary operation. She still has drainage, a nasogastric tube and an IV.

– Is it strange for you to work with your father?

Pierce spoke without anger or any other noticeable emotion, which surprised Winter a little. But she felt that it was not worth developing the topic. I wonder if it's because they were talking about her father or if it's because she Pierce asked about Ambrose Rifkin. However, in any case, she went too far. And what was it about Pierce Rifkin that made Winter forget all the rules?

- Sorry. Of course, it's none of my business.

- It's OK. I often get asked this question,” Pierce turned around and entered the room to the first patient.

It didn’t immediately dawn on Winter that the conversation was over. She hurried after Pierce, and for the next fifty minutes they went from one patient to another, going over basic exams, pulling drains, making new drug orders, and coordinating the overall care program.

They talked only about business, discussing treatment issues, until they had visited all the patients. They worked quickly and efficiently and were comfortable together. However, Winter was not surprised by this. From that very first meeting, they developed a natural rhythm of interaction, even if they bickered.

– How about another coffee? asked Pierce. They sat at the nurses' station on the eighth floor, taking final notes.

- Oh yeah! – Winter answered enthusiastically.

She didn't get enough sleep before her shift. She had spent the entire week leading up to today packing and then moving. In addition, she was worried about her new job and was trying to anticipate the difficulties she would face in her new life. In fact, she was already exhausted.

As they walked back down the stairs, something suddenly dawned on Winter.

– So I’m on duty tonight?

“New residents always go on duty the first night, you know.”

She knew something, but she was not at all ready for it. How stupid of her! Pierce walked up to a door with a big red fire exit sign.

“Let’s get some air,” she said and opened the door.

“Why not,” Winter replied, glancing at her watch. She needed to call.

- Is there something wrong? – Pierce asked, looking at the sky. No rain was expected. It was a clear and fresh January day, it was about minus one. They were both without coats. Street vendors, as usual, did not care about any weather. Every day they brought their trailers here and lined them up in front of the hospital and throughout the campus. Here you could buy any food, from hotdogs to hummus.

“No, it’s okay,” Winter said hastily.

– Actually, I’m on duty tonight I,– Pierce said, heading towards the third trailer in the row. The half-closed small window was fogged up from the warm food that was cooking inside. “But I want you to stay too and find out how the night shift goes.” You will go out on your own tomorrow.

“Okay,” Winter agreed. She had no choice, Pierce was right. She was required to move on to independent duty as quickly as possible, and for this she needed to become familiar with all the routines and rules. Even if she didn't agree, Pierce would still decide. That was the hierarchy, and Winter obeyed it. But it was time to define our place in this system. She squeezed in front of Pierce and asked for two coffees.

– Do you want anything else? Now I'm giving a treat.

- If so, I'll have a hot dog with chili and mustard.

– It’s only half past eleven in the morning! – Winter winced.

“Then I’ll have two, please,” Pierce grinned.

“You’re crazy,” Winter muttered and placed an order. She paid, took the brown paper bag of hot dogs, and turned to Pierce. - I think you want to grab something to eat outside?

-Won't you freeze?

“So I believed you, you’re trembling from this very thought,” Pierce laughed at the sight of Winter, who was trying to hold back a curse. - Cool down, I'll show you my secluded place.

– Another secret? “Winter noticed from Pierce’s gaze that she had closed herself off, and was worried that she had again entered forbidden territory, but then Pierce suddenly smiled. The small scar did not spoil her full lips at all. In fact, this imperfection only added to their attractiveness, and Winter felt a sudden urge to run her finger along the white stripe. Frightened by this strange impulse, she clutched the paper bag tighter. She had never had such desires before.

– You never know until you check. Maybe it’s a secret,” Pierce answered and took one of the cups of coffee from Winter, accidentally touching her hand.

Winter sighed heavily as Pierce lightly squeezed her elbow and led her into a narrow passage between buildings. When Pierce opened the unmarked door that led to yet another staircase, Winter couldn't resist.

- You're kidding right?

Pierce looked at Winter with an innocent look and opened the door for her.

- What are you talking about?

- You know perfectly well! – Winter growled and walked past Pierce. Accidentally brushing Pierce's chest with her hand, she blushed slightly. – How high should we stomp this time?

-Only to the third floor.

“Great,” Winter snapped and began to climb the steps. She never looked back until she reached the third floor. “You just want to make sure I never find this place on my own.”

– Will this corner remain secluded if everyone knows about it? – Pierce noted reasonably.

They found themselves in one of the oldest buildings in the hospital complex. The vinyl tiles on the floor were worn and gray with age. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling were dim, as if they could burn out at any moment. The walls were lined with old medical equipment, some of it from years before Winter had even started thinking about going to medical school.

-Where are we? It looks like a graveyard of old ECG machines.

Pierce laughed.

“In a sense, this is true, a landfill has formed here. At one time, this building housed a antenatal clinic. The upper floors were occupied by the obstetrics department, while the gynecology and outpatient clinic were located below. When the new buildings were built, all clinical departments were moved there. All that remains here are some administrative offices and a couple of laboratories that are no longer in use.

– Why did we come here? – asked Winter. She felt as if she were in a museum rather than a hospital. The feeling was eerie: as if they had been transported back in time, and were about to see nurses in starched white dresses and caps mincing behind the doctors making their rounds.

“I told you,” with these words Pierce took out a bunch of keys from the back pocket of her pants. She opened the wooden door with peeling paint and, with a confident, habitual movement, fumbled with her hand for the switch. Pierce stepped aside and motioned for Winter to come inside. - Only after you.

Winter looked questioningly at Pierce, but walked through the door.

“Oh,” she gasped in surprise.

The room turned out to be tiny, three by two and a half meters, and looked even smaller because of the bookshelves on three walls. In the middle of the room there was a large dark green leather sofa, a matching armchair and a wooden table. Books and magazines were everywhere: all the shelves were filled with them, they were piled on the table and even stood in piles next to the sofa and armchair. Winter tilted her head to read the titles of some books and magazines. Some of them were familiar to her. The shelves were lined with textbooks on surgery, some of them several decades old. She turned to Pierce.

- What kind of place is it? Looks like an old library.

– There used to be a rest room for residents here.

- But not now?

Pierce shook her head.

“When all the patients were transferred to neighboring pavilions, it became too far to walk here. Now no one except me even remembers the existence of this room.

Winter sat down on the sofa and ran her hand over the soft leather surface, which had been worn out in some places by time. On the table stood an old table lamp with a green shade. These haven't been released for a long time. Winter again felt as if she had been transported back in time. Even though this room was from an era in which she would not have been allowed to become a doctor because she was a woman, Winter felt a connection to her predecessors.

- What a cool place.

“That’s for sure,” Pierce agreed. She plopped down into a huge leather chair and, turning across it, dangled her legs over one armrest and rested her head on the other. Pierce then took the bag and pulled out a hot dog wrapped in wax paper and smothered in chili sauce. Taking a bite, she quickly chewed it and held out the hot dog towards Winter.

– Are you sure you don’t want to?

– Only if I take a heartburn pill first!

Winter took a leisurely sip of her coffee, watching as Pierce devoured the hotdog in one sitting. It was clear that she was eating with great, almost tangible pleasure. Winter found herself staring at Pierce's mouth as she licked a drop of mustard from under her lips.

- What's happened? Am I drooling? – Pierce was surprised.

“No, no,” Winter hastened to answer, starting to blush. To hide her embarrassment, she asked: “If this is such a secret place, how did you know about it?”

– I came here when I was little.

- How old were you?

Pierce managed to shrug, despite the fact that she was reclining in a chair.

– About eight or nine years, probably.

-Were you with your father?

Pierce lowered her legs and sat up straight, then reached for the second hot dog, took it out of the bag and began to unwrap it.

- Yeah. He would sometimes take me to the hospital with him on weekends when he did his rounds. If he had too much to do, he would bring me here and I would wait for him to be free.

– Aren’t you bored here?

Winter imagined little Pierce wandering among the bookshelves or falling asleep on that sofa, and wondered if she was lonely.

– So you already wanted to become a doctor then?

– This is our family tradition.

– Wasn’t it your grandfather who developed the first artificial blood circulation machine?

- My. His laboratory was in the building behind this one. I don’t remember him very well, because he practically never attended family holidays and was constantly in the hospital.

Pierce got up from her chair and walked over to the shelves. Running her fingers over the dusty spines of old books, she took one from the shelf, opened it, and held it out to Winter in her palm.

Without a second thought, Winter put her hand under Pierce's arm to keep the book from falling. On the book's flyleaf was written "William Ambrose Rifkin" in faded ink. Winter let out a gasp of surprise.

“I can’t believe that a book like this is just standing here,” she said and looked into Pierce’s eyes. – Doesn’t it belong in some medical museum?

“As I said, I don’t think anyone else remembers the existence of this room.” In addition, many of my grandfather's papers and records are already stored in the archives of the Philadelphia College of Surgeons. Maybe it’s not such a valuable thing.” Pierce closed the book, suddenly feeling stupid. She no longer understood why she brought Winter here at all, and even showed her some old books that belonged to a man whom she hardly remembered. She quickly put the book down and returned to her chair.

- I can give you the key if you want.

- Oh, I don't...

- Forget. In a normal library, of course, it’s much more convenient,” Pierce stood up, excited and restless. “I think it’s time for us to go to the operating room.” We need to check if everything is going as it should.

Winter jumped up from the couch and blocked Pierce's path.

“I just wanted to say that I don’t want to barge into your space.” It's obvious that this is a special place for you.

Pierce's impenetrable eyes expressed nothing.

“Sometimes all this,” Pierce made a wide arc with her hand, referring to the entire hospital complex, which resembled a mini city, and the hundreds of people who worked in it, “can get pretty tiring.” Sometimes it only takes a few minutes to come to your senses. And this place is good for that.

“I appreciate it, thank you very much,” Winter quickly ran her fingers over Pierce’s arm. - Look, I'll take you at your word.

“You’re welcome,” Pierce’s eyes brightened and she smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you the shortcut to the operating room.”

Winter took a deep breath and hurried after Pierce, who had already rushed forward. Winter suddenly realized that the hospital was Pierce's personal playground, and she led her around her property like a proud child. Winter also realized how much she wanted Pierce to take her on her team.

“Pierce, wait a second,” Winter asked.

-What else happened? – Pierce asked with a laugh. She turned to Winter, but continued to walk down the corridor backwards, not bumping into the people who were walking towards her. However, perhaps they simply parted before her, like the Red Sea before Moses. -Are you already exhausted?

– You can’t wait, Rifkin! – Winter barked. She took the pager out of her pocket and looked at it. – What is this number 5136?

Pierce immediately became serious.

- Intensive therapy.

She wanted to take on this challenge herself, but Winter was also a senior resident and it was time to understand what she was worth. Pierce pointed to the phone hanging on the wall next to the elevator and leaned against the wall as Winter dialed the number.

“Dr. Thompson,” Winter said into the phone. She pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket and, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, straightened it out. - I received a call. I see... Wait a minute, who?.. Gilbert... How much liquid?

Pierce tensed. She really wanted to snatch the phone from Winter and find out from the nurse herself what had happened, but she forced herself to stand still and just listen. She needed to see if Winter could be trusted to work on her own.

“No,” Winter said confidently into the phone, “leave the bandage in place, wet it with saline solution and check if she had a complete blood count and electrolyte test today.” We'll be there now. And let her not eat or drink anything.

- What's happened? Pierce asked as soon as Winter hung up.

- Mrs. Gilbert complains that it is leaking.

- Is it leaking? In terms of…

“I mean, her robe and bed look like they're covered in cranberry juice,” Winter explained as they raced down the hallway.

- Damn it!

- I thought so too. What's she doing, three days after gastric bypass? – Winter checked her list again. - Yes that's right. Her hemoglobin is normal, so it is unlikely that she has some kind of large post-operative hematoma that no one noticed. And in any case, she couldn’t break through so early.

“I agree,” Pierce said gloomily. “If she started bleeding after the operation, the hemoglobin should have dropped, but even if that was the whole point and we missed it, the hematoma could not burst so early. Did you get her out of bed today?

“I don’t know,” Winter pressed the elevator call button with a flourish. “But the patient coughed before noticing the blood.”

- Wonderful! What do you think?

They entered the elevator and stood against the far wall. Winter spoke in a low voice so that no one would hear them.

“I think Mrs. Gilbert's stitches have come apart.”

– And I’m of the same opinion.

– Is this your patient? – Winter asked as they maneuvered through the crowd and hurried down the corridor. The question was sensitive, and she did not rule out the possibility that Pierce might explode. Nobody liked complications, especially surgeons. And with a technical complication, which in principle could have been avoided if the surgeon had performed this or that procedure differently, it was not just difficult to accept - it was difficult to admit. Winter guessed that Pierce couldn't stand complications.

- No, not mine, Dzubrov was in charge of it... he’s a fourth-year resident. He assisted during this operation, which was carried out by the head of the department.

“Three-four-four-two,” she said out loud to Winter.

- I remembered.

The doors slid open and they entered the surgical intensive care unit, where controlled chaos reigned. Along the far wall were twelve beds, separated only by curtains and a tiny amount of space to allow nurses to pass between them. The bedside tables next to each bed were littered with charts and test results. Flexible plastic tubes ran from the machines to the patients, many of whom lay completely motionless in their beds. The lights in the emergency room were too bright, the equipment was too loud, and the atmosphere was too dull due to the serious threat to life. In all the intensive care units that Winter had visited before, everything was exactly the same.

-Where is she?

- On the fifth bed.

As they approached the patient, Pierce leaned over the handrail attached to the bed and addressed the worried woman with a smile.

- Hello, Mrs. Gilbert. What happened to you?

“I think I’ve got some kind of leak, honey.”

“This is Doctor Thompson, she’ll examine you now,” Pierce moved away from the bed and waved her hand to Winter to come closer. - Let's see what conclusions you come to.

Winter pulled on her gloves and lifted the sheet.

- Mrs. Gilbert, now I will lift your shirt and look at the seam. Do you have pain?

– It hurts, of course, but the same as in the morning.

– Did the bleeding start after you coughed? “Winter lifted the corner of the sterile bandage placed over the stitch. Conversation often helped distract the patient during the examination.

“I think it was right after that.” I was told that coughing is good for my lungs. Do you think I shouldn't have done this?

– No, after surgery it is important to cleanse the lungs. You did everything right.

Winter had some idea of ​​what she would find under the bandage, so she wasn't surprised to see shiny pink intestine peeking through the split seam. She carefully returned the bandage to its place.

“Dr. Rifkin and I will talk for a minute, and then we’ll get right back to you,” she said, turning and meeting Pierce’s gaze. -Have you seen it?

- Yes. Looks like we'll need some minor repairs. I'll call the head of the department, and in the meantime you sign her consent.

- Agreed.

Winter returned to Mrs. Gilbert to explain to her that her stitch had partially come apart and that she would have to be taken back to the operating room to fix the situation. Winter did not go into detail so as not to frighten the patient.

Although the ruptured stitch looked scary, it was not a serious problem, provided that infection or damage to the intestine could be prevented. By the time Winter signed the consent form, Pierce had finished talking on the phone.

-Have you settled everything? – asked Winter.

- How to say to you. The head of the department is currently undergoing surgery for an aneurysm, after which he immediately has a colon resection.

“We can’t keep her waiting for several hours,” Winter said quietly.

– I said the same thing.

Winter waited for the continuation, watching the sparkle in Pierce's eyes.

“Looks like it’s just you and me left, Doc.”

Doc. No one had ever called Winter such a word that felt both respect and teasing at the same time. She smiled back.

- Well, then let's get started.

- What do you have here? asked Ambrose Rifkin. He entered the operating room, pushing the door open in both directions with his back and holding his gloved hands at chest level. After the previous operation, he had already changed his gown and gloves. By opening the door with his back, he saved time moving between operating rooms.

Pierce stood a meter from the operating table, already in a gown and gloves, and waited while Winter treated the patient’s abdomen with betadine, being careful not to touch the exposed part of the intestine.

– Mrs. Gilbert, sixty-three years old, three days after gastric bypass. About forty-five minutes ago her stitch came apart.

– Did something precede this?

- Possibly a cough.

- So-so.

Ambrose Rifkin walked up to the operating table, glanced quickly at the patient's stomach and at the monitors hanging at the head of the table, then nodded to the anesthesiologist.

- Is everything okay, Jerry?

- She's fine, Em.

Father Pierce looked across the table at Winter.

-What's your plan, Dr. Thompson?

Asking a resident a question about a plan for an operation that he would never perform on his own was a proven method for weeding out lazy and unfit candidates. It was understood that, while in the operating room, the resident must understand the problem and see its solution, even if he is not the one performing the operation.

Surprised that the department manager remembered her name, Winter ran the betadine swab over the patient’s stomach one last time.

“It is necessary to widen the incision and perform an intra-abdominal lavage, as well as conduct an examination of the intestines,” with these words, Winter took off her gloves and extended her hands to put on the sterile gown that the nurse was holding for her. – In addition, the wound should be sanitized.

– Why did you suspect an infection?

The department head spoke in an even tone, but judging by his intonation, he did not agree with Winter.

She shrugged, pulling on sterile gloves.

“I didn’t suspect it, but why not do it, since we’re already here.” If we miss the infection of the deep layers of the skin at an early stage, then tomorrow we will look very stupid.

Ambrose Rifkin laughed.

- But we don’t want that.

“I don’t know about you, sir, but I definitely don’t want to,” Winter confirmed, her eyes shining over her mask.

- Well, very good. Just make sure nothing goes wrong for her this time.

“I was going to use some kind of non-absorbable suture,” Winter said, wisely refraining from mentioning that the complications were not her fault. The main thing was not to convict the culprit, but to correct the situation. – Prolene is quite strong, it should hold up well.

“Yes, sir,” Pierce promised through the door that closed behind her father. She took the sterile drape the nurse handed her and passed it across the operating table to Winter.

“I see you like to take risks,” Pierce said in a low voice so only Winter could hear her.

- What are you talking about?

– About your words about infection. It will be safer if you follow the rules with him.

“Thanks for the tip,” Winter sincerely thanked her. The residents in many ways protected each other and stuck together, just like in other professional bodies like the army or the police. They covered each other and rarely pointed a finger at someone who made a mistake, knowing full well that next time they might find themselves in that place themselves.

“It seemed to me that he reacted normally to this,” Winter noted.

- That's because you acted a little like a cowboy, and he likes it. However, you better be careful, because if you make a mistake, this trust can backfire on you.

Winter covered the patient's legs with a sheet and took another to spread over her face.

- You know better. It's written all over your face that you're a cowboy.

“Maybe I’m just really good at it,” Pierce said jokingly.

“Maybe I’m good too,” Winter persisted.

- Let's find out.

They covered the patient's entire body with sterile sheets, leaving only the area on her abdomen where the stitch went through exposed. After that, Winter automatically walked around the operating table and took the place on the left, where the assistant was supposed to be. However, when Pierce, who was standing there, did not move, Winter stared at her in bewilderment.

-Are you left-handed? – Pierce asked casually.

“Then you should stand on the other side of the table.”

Without saying a word, Winter walked back, trying not to show her amazement. She did not expect that she would be entrusted with such a responsible task so soon, but nevertheless Pierce allowed her to act for the leading surgeon. Technically, Pierce was there and had full responsibility since she was the chief resident on the operation, but she still left Winter to do the job. It was a test, but at the same time Winter was honored.

Winter looked at the anesthesiologist over the sheet stretched over two steel supports that separated the sterile area from the non-sterile area. In ancient times, when the patient was put to sleep before surgery with ether, which was moistened with a rag, this separating sheet was called an ether screen. This name has remained, although modern surgeons have not used ether for a long time and have forgotten when it was.

“Let’s begin,” Winter said.

“She is at your complete disposal,” Pierce said.

Winter's attention was already completely focused on the operation. Without looking at Pierce, she extended her right hand and asked the nurse for a scalpel.

* * *

“Good job,” Pierce praised her already in the locker room.

- Thank you.

Winter opened her locker and began rummaging through it for a fresh uniform. The operation lasted only an hour and a half, but the patient was large, and placing neat sutures through healthy tissue was not an easy task. By the time they finished, Pierce and Winter were drenched in sweat.

– It’s always hard to sew up a second time.

– Yes, but now everything is done conscientiously.

- That's for sure.

Winter pulled off the top of her uniform, acutely aware of Pierce's close presence. Winter usually wore a T-shirt under her uniform because a bra would restrict her movement. She had long been accustomed to changing clothes with other women: over the past eight years, Winter had done this thousands of times. She knew that some of her colleagues were gay, but it didn't bother her. When you have to work side by side for many hours, you get used to respecting personal space. But the fact that Pierce was so close now unsettled Winter, and she didn't understand why.

- Thank you for letting me perform the operation.

- Do not mention it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Winter saw Pierce begin to undress, and quickly turned away when it became clear that Pierce had nothing else under her uniform. Strong arms, a small smooth chest and a developed torso were imprinted in Winter's mind's eye. Staring at her locker, Winter quickly pulled out a clean shirt and pulled it over her head. Without turning around, she said:

- It's still an operation.

“That’s not the right word,” Pierce confirmed.

She slammed the locker and leaned her shoulder against it. Pierce felt the joy that always washed over her after successfully completing a difficult task. From a technical point of view, the operation was simple. However, there was a complication involved, and Pierce wanted to be sure that there would be no more problems. In addition, the attending physician gave her complete freedom of action, and this added to her both anxiety and pleasure.

Winter also leaned against the locker, almost touching Pierce's shoulder. She gathered her sweat-soaked hair from her neck and pinned it with a simple bobby pin.

– How does he feel when he needs to return to the operating room? – asked Winter.

- I can’t imagine! – Pierce shook her head.

Her father suddenly appeared in the operating room at the very moment when they were examining the patient's abdominal cavity. It was always a mystery to Pierce how he did it, but his father always appeared in the operating room at the most crucial moments. He watched for a few minutes and left without saying anything. But his tacit approval was enough for Pierce. Over the years, she has already realized: this is the maximum that she can get from her father.

“Nobody understands this, but he always comes to the operating room exactly when needed. He just knows when the moment comes when we need to be tested.

Winter wondered what it would be like to have one of the best surgeons in the world as both your father and mentor. Despite the reserved equanimity in Pierce's voice, Winter sensed that there was a certain burden behind it that Pierce didn't want to talk about. Judging by the shadows in Pierce's eyes, she was having a hard time, and Winter felt the urge to ease the pain. She did not expect such a reaction from herself. Winter tried to speak in a normal tone.

– Tell me what it’s like to operate with him.

“He doesn’t say much before the operation begins, and then only to the point.” He does everything quickly and expects the same from you.

“It runs in your family,” Winter joked.

In the operating room, Pierce was as skilled as Winter had expected. Fast, competent and accurate, and also self-confident, but at the same time careful. An excellent combination of qualities for a surgeon.

- Look at yourself! They'll soon start calling you Flash.

Winter smiled, flattered.

– Do you remember what they say: there are good fast surgeons and there are bad fast surgeons, but there are no good ones slow surgeons,” they had already spoken the last words in unison and laughed.

“Apparently, you don’t need to worry about that,” Pierce said with conviction.

She was relieved to know that Winter had not lost her head during the operation. Now Pierce knew that she would not have to worry about Winter when she worked alone, and this added to Winter's attractiveness in Pierce's eyes. Winter was smart, quick-witted and quick. And she really had skillful hands. Pierce's heart began to pound faster, and she had to suppress a sudden surge of desire. Lord, this is the problem on my head. I can’t constantly feel excited when she’s around. Do I really have to suffer for two whole years?!

Meanwhile, Winter was smiling. She couldn’t remember when she had been so happy during her entire residency. Surgery was stressful, but Winter felt pleasure in knowing that Pierce was happy with her work. She enjoyed pleasing Pierce.

- So now? – asked Winter.

Let's get out of here and get a room. Half an hour in bed with you - and my torment will end. Pierce had done this to other girls more than once. Receptionists at the Penn Tower Hotel, which was directly across the street from the hospital, were quiet and didn't raise an eyebrow when Pierce left the hotel room with a friend just an hour later. Pierce always carried a pager with her and, if necessary, could return to the hospital in a matter of minutes. Oh yes, half an hour would be enough for me.

Pierce looked into Winter's blue eyes and imagined their hands going under each other's shirt and pants, too excited to take off their uniforms. Winter's skin is probably soft and elastic, and her body is slender and strong. Pierce was sure that in bed they would move as synchronously as in the operating room, and that it would happen naturally, and words would not be needed. Each of them will know what the other needs and will guess the next touch. From somewhere in the depths of her memory, the spicy smell of Winter suddenly surfaced, making Pierce even more excited.

- God, how neglected everything is! – she whispered. Everything swam before Pierce's eyes.

- What? – Winter asked her in bewilderment. - Are you all right? You look... I don’t even know... - she put her hand on Pierce’s forehead. “Your head is hot, probably due to dehydration.” It was very hot in the operating room.

Pierce twitched under Winter's hand.

“I’m fine,” she cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Sorry, I was just wondering what we need to do.” First, we will gather the rest and go on a round to be discharged.

Pierce suddenly had an idea. Maybe a hotel is not such a pipe dream.

“And then I’ll take you across the road to lunch...” she began.

“Sorry,” Winter interrupted her, her cell phone ringing. Looking at the screen, she said: “I have to answer, wait a little.”

- No problem.

- Hello! Everything is fine? – Winter began to speak into the phone. She caught Pierce, who was about to step aside, by the hand and raised one finger in the air, indicating that the conversation would only take one minute.

“Listen, I’ll be back later today than I thought.” I understand, I'm sorry. I should have seen this coming. I don’t know exactly, but it’s already past midnight. I know... No, I'm fine...” Winter let out a gentle laugh. - Exactly? OK, thank you. – Listening to the interlocutor, Winter smiled. “I am your debtor for the rest of my life, so I can give you whatever you want.” Agreed, I'll call later.

While Winter talked, Pierce tried not to pay attention to the intimate notes in her voice. All this time she managed not to remember that Winter was a married straight woman. They worked so well together, they were so at ease with each other, that Pierce forgot how much stood between them. Although Pierce did not move, she was already far away in her thoughts. She let her guard down, and it was extremely stupid. She had a golden rule of not getting into serious relationships at work. Frivolous - it’s possible, it just suited her, anyway, she didn’t have time for anything more, and besides, she didn’t need unnecessary complications. Pierce also slept with straight women, and it was not a problem for either of them. However, in Winter's case, things were different. My affairs are bad.

“Sorry, sorry,” Winter said when she finished talking on the phone. – What did you say about the discharge round?

Pierce suddenly felt the urge to distance herself, so she moved away from Winter and stood on the other side of the low bench that ran between the rows of lockers.

- Never mind. I'll page the guys, we'll meet in the cafeteria in half an hour.

- How about Coca-Cola? Let me treat you. We can sit in the rest room for now...

- No thanks.

“But I thought...” Winter stared after Pierce, who left the locker room without looking back. Pierce seemed to be angry about something, but Winter had no idea what it could be. Their day was going just fine; in the operating room they worked as harmoniously as possible, without words predicting each other’s actions.

- What the heck?! – Winter cursed out loud; now she was angry too. Mixed with the irritation was the feeling that she had been abandoned, although there was no logic at all in this. Winter took a robe from her locker, put it on, and made sure that the patient list was in the pocket of her uniform shirt under the robe. She decided that she would make quick rounds of patients herself before the end of the day. If Pierce is in a bad mood, that's her problem. I don't care.

- Hello, Phil. Can you borrow a cigarette? – with these words, Pierce lightly hit the large gray-haired guard on the arm. He frowned.

– You will soon reach your monthly limit. I'll give you a couple more, and you'll owe me a whole pack.

“I’ll more than compensate you for everything,” Pierce grinned. – You know, you can trust me.

“Stop fooling me,” the guard muttered good-naturedly, taking a pack out of his desk drawer and shaking out a filtered Marlboro cigarette.

This guard post was located at the Spruce Street entrance to the hospital. There was a line of monitors on a desk in front of the guard, showing passers-by, hospital visitors and staff scurrying through the corridors.

“I’ve been giving you cigarettes since you were fifteen, and what did I get for it?”

“Sixteen,” Pierce corrected him, “and I bet I’ve only accumulated a couple of blocks over all these years.”

“Let’s summarize,” Phil suggested, pretending to rummage through the papers.

Pierce laughed, rolling her cigarette between her fingers.

- Thank you. Can you let me into the freight elevator?

– What else would you like, Your Highness?

“Don’t be impudent,” the guard warned her, wagging his finger. He led Pierce down a short hallway to a freight elevator. There, Phil selected the required key from a bunch hanging on his wide leather belt, inserted it into the control panel, and the large elevator doors slid open. – You haven’t ridden it for a long time.

“Yes, that’s right, let’s get some air,” Pierce said calmly.

Many years ago, Phil Matucci noticed that she would run to the hospital roof when something was tormenting her. They became friends when Pierce was still a child. Phil let her sit next to him on a high stool while she waited for her father on endless Saturday evenings. Together they watched the annual US Baseball Championship on a tiny portable TV. As Pierce grew older, they began discussing politics. On rare occasions when Pierce felt more lonely than usual, she told Phil about her dreams. Phil himself had five children, and perhaps that’s why he never got tired of Pierce.

He scolded her when Pierce started smoking. In the end, they came to a compromise that she would not buy cigarettes, and when she really wanted, he would simply treat her. Several times, while still a teenager, Pierce broke the agreement, but she was terribly ashamed of it. So she threw empty cigarette packs into the trash bin secretly so that Phil wouldn't notice.

“Let me know when you come back down so I don’t think you froze to death there.”

“Okay, thank you,” Pierce said quietly.

The elevator took her to the top floor. Pierce walked down the hallway to the fire exit onto the roof. There used to be a helipad here. But then the Roads Pavilion was built, and on its roof, using the latest technology, they equipped a platform for the Penn Star medical helicopter. Pierce walked over to the concrete barrier, bent over from the wind, and lit a cigarette with a match she took from a cardboard bag. This bag was always kept in the back pocket of her pants along with other important things. Taking a deep breath of cigarette smoke and cold air, Pierce straightened up and looked at the city spread out before her. There was a time when she was too young, and to see the Schuylkill River that separated West Philadelphia from the city center, she had to jump up, resting both hands on the concrete partition. Now Pierce could put her elbows on the fence. So she did, thinking about this strange day.

Pierce could not understand why Winter sank so deeply into her soul. Yes, she was pretty and sexy, but there was nothing unusual about that: Pierce was constantly aroused by the sight of pretty women. Sometimes she slept with them, sometimes she didn’t, but she never lost her peace because of them. If they first met on the day the medical students were assigned to residency, Pierce could easily have chalked up her reaction to the excitement she'd been feeling all day. Pierce knew that nursing school was almost over and that she would finally embark on the journey she had been preparing for her entire life. At least that's what she thought at the time. Winter literally swooped in and they shared this turning point in each of their lives.

Winter was so beautiful and seductive that, left alone with her, Pierce lost her head - she wanted to kiss this girl so badly. She had kissed strangers more than once, only now the problem was that she still wanted to press her lips to Winter's lips.

- Damn it! – Pierce muttered, trampling on the cigarette butt. Because of the wind, her shirt whipped her body and then stuck to her chest. Pierce's nipples became tense from the cold: the sensation was akin to arousal. In addition, she remembered how she fantasized about them kissing. The memory was so vivid that Pierce was again overcome by uncontrollable desire. Great! I came here to calm down, but instead it only made me worse. It would be better if I went to my duty room to relieve the tension.

Pierce desperately wanted to smoke another cigarette, but she knew that Phil would not let her down if she asked him for another.

“So, all I need is to just keep my distance from her until I find some girlfriend,” Pierce decided.

Armed with this plan, she headed back to the hospital. Work was a panacea for her: thanks to it, Pierce forgot about loneliness, excitement and anger.

* * *

Winter was pleased to note that she was the first to arrive at the cafeteria. She didn't fully understand why it was so important to show up here before Pierce, but it did matter to her. Winter was used to competition with the rest of the residents: it was impossible to do otherwise in the medical world that she had chosen for herself. While still in high school, Winter realized that if she chose medicine, she would have to be the best at everything. Although the competition in the medical field was not what it used to be, a place in medical school was still a struggle, and there were even fewer places in the field of surgery. The handful of residency positions in the most sought-after programs sometimes received hundreds of applications.

But the residents needed each other to survive. They pulled together in the face of grueling work and constant stress. As a result, competition between them most often proceeded in a friendly manner, and did not reach the point of cutting throats. Of course, there were exceptions, but Winter never tried to go over her head. She just had her own goals. She wanted to be the best, because she consciously chose such a life for herself, and settling for less was now unthinkable.

Winter grabbed some coffee and sat down at a larger table, making room for the entire team. As she ran her eyes over the list again, making sure she hadn't missed anything, she thought back to the surgery she and Pierce had performed. The operation was not the most difficult that she had already had to do. Plus, Winter always liked operating. Any operation became a personal challenge for her, a problem that needed to be solved, a violation that needed to be corrected with her own hands. But after Pierce's surgery, Winter felt something else, and it was a sensation she was unfamiliar with. They achieved the result through joint efforts, won a common victory, and because she had something in common with Pierce, Winter felt... satisfaction. This thought made the girl frown.

Satisfaction? But this was not entirely correct. Perhaps excitement? Yes, it seems, but it was also strange. Winter leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to figure out what was so confusing about Pierce.

“Hi,” Bruce greeted her. He pushed back his chair and sank into it with a sigh. - What's new?

- Nothing special. We had to take Mrs. Gilbert back to the operating room because her stitch had come apart.

- Come on? Wow! – Bruce marked the date of the patient’s second operation on his list. – Did everything go well?

- Without a hitch, without a hitch.

“It’s a pity I wasn’t there,” Bruce muttered. – I kept the hooks on for half a day during colon surgery.

Winter hid her smile. For an energetic young resident, there was nothing worse than holding a muscle hook while someone else operated. But rules are rules: first, junior residents had to learn to assist, and only after that they received the right to operate independently. This took not even months, but whole years.

“It sucks, I understand,” Winter sympathized.

“Tell me how it all happened,” Bruce asked.

– What should I tell you about? – Pierce interrupted them, sitting down opposite Winter. - Any problems?

“None,” Bruce said quickly. He had no intention of complaining to the chief resident, especially since the surgeon for whom he had spent half a day holding the abdominal wall was Pierce's father. - Everything is cool.

– Where does Liu go?

Pierce felt Winter's gaze on her, but looked only at Bruce. She didn't need to look at the girl again to remember the shape of her face or the color of her eyes, or the way she tilted her head and looked out from under her long honey eyelashes, wondering about something. Even without looking at Winter, Pierce felt a tug in the pit of her stomach. Holy shit, I don’t really want to be next to her for another six hours. Pierce got ready to work, hoping that it would distract her from the red-haired beauty.

“Contact Liu and tell him he’s late,” Pierce told Bruce. “If he doesn’t show up in five minutes, I’ll leave and we’ll start the discharge round in an hour.”

Bruce jumped out of his chair and almost ran across the cafeteria to the telephone hanging on the wall.

“That threat always works,” Winter muttered. It was torture for the resident to spend an extra hour in the hospital when he was not required to do so. So that was the best motivation. Unfortunately, the whole team suffered from the lateness of one person, so everyone mercilessly demanded punctuality from each other.

Pierce couldn't help but grin.

“In any case, I’m not going anywhere today.” If they want to hang around here, I don't care.

Winter nodded toward the far corner of the cafeteria.

- And here he is.

Liu was in such a hurry that he almost knocked over chairs on his way. He literally slid along the floor for the last few meters, after which he collapsed onto a chair.

- Forgive me, forgive me!

“Half-past six is ​​half-past seven,” Pierce noted in an even tone.

- I know, I know. I was trying to get the culture results, but...” Liu stopped short when he saw Pierce’s eyes narrow. - This will not happen again.

Pierce said nothing and looked at Bruce. He had never had an athletic build, and over the past six months he had gained another ten kilograms. This happened often with residents. They were deprived of other pleasures except food, which was always at hand and became their only joy. Pierce kept her weight in check by jogging daily and working out vigorously several times a week at the university gym.

“Let's go through the list from top to bottom,” Pierce said.

Bruce put on his wire-rimmed glasses and began:

– Ward 1213, Konstantin, femoral-popliteal anastomosis...

Evening rounds lasted longer than morning ones, because at the end of the day we had to discuss the accumulated issues and solve all the remaining problems. At night, Pierce was responsible not only for her patients, but also for the intensive care unit and emergency room. That's why it was so important to discuss the main points in the evening, so that by the morning everything would be done.

During the discussion, all residents made notes. When they finished with the last patient, Pierce put her pen aside.

- So, Bruce, you are free. We'll meet tomorrow at half past six in the morning.

“See you soon,” Bruce said goodbye and disappeared from the cafeteria in the blink of an eye.

Liu stood up and said:

- I'm going to have a snack while everything is quiet here. Will you have anything?

Pierce raised an eyebrow in Winter's direction. She shook her head.

“No, thank you,” Pierce said. – I’ll visit you at eleven o’clock. Call me if you need me, but remember that the call...

- A sign of weakness! – Liu finished for her with a grin. That was the first thing he heard from Pierce on his very first shift. This was the first thing every senior resident said to the first year resident on their first day in surgery. It was a big paradox - responsibility came into conflict with independence, and as a result, the surgeon was faced with the need to stand alone in conditions of uncertainty.

After Liu left, Pierce looked across the table at Winter.

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to eat either.” The situation can escalate at any second, and then there will simply be no time to even have a snack.

– I'm thinking about hot dogs made from stray dogs.

Winter looked Pierce up and down.

“I don’t know you well enough yet to know whether you’re joking or not, but I’m not going to stand by and watch you risk your life for the second time in a day.” Let's go see the kids, at least they have McDonald's.

The children's ward was part of the university hospital, and on its ground floor there was a separate McDonald's, where there were a lot of people at any time of the day. Although Pierce had no intention of doing this, she suddenly suggested another option:

– How about dinner at the Penn Tower Hotel restaurant?

– This is my first day at work. “I don’t want to flout the rules that much,” Winter said quietly.

- So you’re not on duty, unlike me.

Winter stared at Pierce, annoyed that she could not understand anything from the expression on the chief resident's face. Once Winter saw the fire of desire blaze in those dark eyes. The response surge of excitement that Pierce's hot gaze awakened in her struck her to the core and left her completely confused. Winter had chalked up her reaction to brain fog and raging hormones, but now Pierce's impenetrable composure unsettled her even more. Winter was infuriated that Pierce could completely close himself off from her.

- I'm not sure I want to help you break the rules,” Winter said, her voice betraying her irritation.

– My father is the head of the surgical department. Do you think anyone will complain about me if I go to dinner across the street from the hospital?

- This simply cannot be. I do not believe that you will even for a moment take advantage of the advantages arising from your father's position. “With these words, Winter leaned forward, put her elbows on the table and stared at Pierce with burning eyes. - In fact, I bet that you are breaking the rules precisely because your father is the head of the department, and you don’t want others to think that you are being treated in any special way.

Pierce burst out laughing.

– And how did you come to this conclusion?

I saw the sadness in your eyes that you hide from everyone.

Winter didn't say this out loud, of course, because her intuition told her that Piers Rifkin wouldn't tolerate anyone seeing her vulnerable. Winter didn't want it to come to that. Even more, Winter didn't want to offend Pierce in any way by discussing her father. So she shrugged and said:

- Okay, in the end, you will have to run to the emergency room if the call comes at the moment when we are enjoying fettuccine Alfredo.

“Did I tell you that I was a runner in high school?”

“You didn’t tell me anything about your school years,” Winter said with a smile. She could easily imagine the long-legged Pierce running around the stadium or across rough terrain. But overall she didn't look like a typical runner, given her muscular torso.

“You have a pretty strong body for a runner.”

“In college, I signed up for rowing.

- So now you are running slower.

- Anytime. I sometimes run myself.

Winter did not specify that the last time she took up running seriously was about four years ago. She doubted she could keep up with Pierce, but she wasn't going to let her doubts show.

– I’ll give you a couple of days to adapt, and then we’ll check how everyone runs.

Pierce stood up, completely forgetting that she was going to keep her distance. She felt so good in Winter's company that caution faded into the background. Plus, what's wrong with her trying to be friendly?

“Come on, I’ll take you to dinner.”

Winter nodded, laughing. It was impossible to refuse Pierce.

- Okay, but everyone pays for themselves.

- Let it be as you want. This time,” Pierce agreed.

- Don't we need to change clothes? – Winter asked as they left the cafeteria.

“No, no, in this restaurant everyone is used to people in medical uniform,” Pierce answered. “Do you have a blazer or something?” It would be enough.

- Yes, but in the locker room.

“Then let’s go there quickly, I’m dying of hunger.”

A couple of minutes later, Winter was already showing off in a cable-knit blue sweater that was a couple of shades lighter than her eyes. Her copper-gold hair, scattered across a soft blue sweater, suggested a flaming sunset somewhere on the Caribbean coast. Pierce imagined Winter on the beach with beads of sweat glistening on her skin so vividly that she almost felt the salty taste in her mouth.

“It suits you very well,” she said.

Winter looked at Pierce, puzzled, and then turned her gaze to her favorite, but no longer new, sweater. She usually wore different clothes to the restaurant, but she was pleased to hear Pierce's compliment and see the approval in her eyes, even if it was a little embarrassing.

- What will you wear? – she asked Pierce.

- I? A! – Pierce finally remembered why they went into the locker room. She hardly looked away from Winter, took a baggy blue and burgundy sweatshirt with the university logo from her locker and pulled it on.

- I'm ready.

The shapeless clothes couldn't hide Pierce's athletic figure, and Winter remembered their first meeting.

“You look good too,” she said without having time to think.

Pierce blushed.

- Let's go quickly before they call us.

They silently left the hospital. Filled with a sense of freedom, they quickly crossed the street and ducked into the hotel lobby. They walked along the luxurious carpet deeper into the building where the restaurant was located. They were greeted at the entrance by the hostess, who smiled warmly at the sight of Pierce.

“Dr. Rifkin,” the girl breathed. – It’s so nice to see you again. You haven't been with us for a long time.

- Hello, Thalia. Can you seat us at a table in the corner by the window?

The model-looking hostess looked at Pierce with such an openly greedy gaze that for a moment Winter even wondered if she should stand in this line of fire, and was again taken aback by such a thought. She had seen many times how women looked at their husbands with such carnivorous eyes, and it did not bother her one bit. But now this girl’s interest in Pierce, who, by the way, was also female, for some reason pissed Winter off. She decisively extended her hand, distracting the hostess from Pierce.

– Hello, my name is Dr. Thompson.

With a polite but icy smile, Thalia turned towards the food hall.

- Nice to meet you. Let me take you to the table.

– Do you come here often? – Winter asked when they sat down at the table and were alone.

“I come here from time to time,” Pierce answered evasively, glad that Thalia left them earlier, before Winter noticed her unnecessary attention. Pierce might have known in advance that Thalia wouldn't be happy to see her with another girl, even if it was just for an innocent dinner. She put the menu aside because she knew it by heart.

– If you are not a vegetarian, then their steak is simply excellent. If you don't eat meat, they really do make an incredible fettuccine alfredo.

Winter laughed.

– I eat meat, but now I want pasta, so let’s have fettuccine.

– I’ll take a Coca-Cola because I’m on duty, but you can also drink wine, they have a good selection.

– I’ll have a Coca-Cola too.

After they ordered, Winter leaned back in her chair and looked at Pierce thoughtfully.

– It doesn’t annoy you that you’re still a resident, right? – she asked Pierce.

“In two years, when I become an independent surgeon, I will be much happier,” Pierce replied. “But I knew what I was getting into, so no, it doesn’t piss me off.” Why do you ask?

- Because you don’t feel angry. Most - well, okay, maybe not the majority- but many residents at our stage hate their work, or at least cannot stand being on duty. – Winter looked around the restaurant, which was too fashionable for a hotel. Perhaps this was due to the proximity of the hospital and the large number of VIPs who were treated there. - Let's take this place for example. You are on duty, but at the moment you are looking forward to a very tasty dinner, and, apparently, this is not such a rare case. It sounds like you don't let residency get in the way of your life.

– Why suffer if you can have pleasure? – Pierce grinned.

“Really, why,” Winter agreed, laughing.

- What about you? asked Pierce. – After all, residency must be a little more difficult for you.

- Why did you decide? – Winter felt a chill in her chest.

“Well, you’re married,” Pierce shrugged.

Finally, we have come to this topic.

Winter suddenly felt relieved.

- I divorced.

Winter didn't understand why it was important for Pierce to know about this.

“This changes things,” Pierce caught herself and smiled wryly. - Sorry, I wanted to say...

– There is no need to apologize, I agree with you: this simplifies a lot.

“So I shouldn’t express my condolences to you?”

– I won’t lie, there wasn’t much fun in it, but we’ll do without condolences.

– Is that why you lost a year of residency? - Pierce asked, but seeing that Winter had averted her eyes, she hastened to add: - Sorry, it’s none of my business...

“It’s okay,” Winter reassured her, smiling forcefully. – It’s not that simple, but that was also the reason.

“Well, you’re in a good place, although it’s a pity that you’ll have to work an extra year.”

- Thank you. It’s unpleasant, of course, to lose a year, but given the situation as a whole…” she met Pierce’s gaze, “I’m glad to be here.”

- Well, that’s nice.

Pierce was overcome with sudden euphoria. What a shame she's on duty and can't order a bottle of Bordeaux to celebrate. What are you going to celebrate? So what if she's divorced, it doesn't change anything. But Pierce was still fine.

- What? – Winter asked her.

- In terms of?

Winter shook her head.

“You and I are having some kind of strange conversation.” You just became... suddenly so happy.

- It's just like that.

At this point, the waiter brought their order, which spared Pierce any further explanation.

- Let's eat while we can.

“Oh yes, another rule of surgeons,” Winter drawled, wrapping fettuccine around her fork. – If you see a chair, sit down, if you see a bed, lie down, if you see food, eat.

“And this is absolutely true,” Pierce confirmed, eating her steak with appetite.

- God, what bliss! – a satisfied Winter said with a groan.

“That’s for sure,” Pierce agreed, though not referring to the food on their plates.

- How many brothers and sisters do you have? – asked Winter, who had satisfied her first hunger.

Pierce's hand holding the fork froze in the air.

- No one. What makes you think I have them?

- For no reason, I just assumed...

– What did you assume? – Pierce put down her fork and froze in place.

- Oh God, I'm only making things worse, I'm sorry. I didn't want to get into your soul.

- Well, no, continue. I want to hear to the end.

After divorcing her husband, aspiring surgeon Winter Thompson tries to combine her favorite job with her maternal responsibilities. She simply has no time left for anything else. Winter convinces herself that her life has everything she needs. Pierce Rifkin is a girl with a clear plan for the future. She sets herself the goal of becoming a leading surgeon at one of the best clinics in the United States. To make her dream come true, she needs to be focused, so a serious relationship is not at all in her plans, and the position of chief surgical resident is just a step towards her goal. Two girls who have nothing in common except their love for work conflict every time they encounter each other...

Pierce turned the corner towards the elevators and at the end of the corridor, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a girl in a dark blue uniform walking towards the break room.

- Hey, wait! – Pierce shouted and hurried forward. “You’re new...” Pierce paused, her voice trailing off at the sight of a face she didn’t expect to see ever again. Winter's face lost the tender youthful plumpness, her features became sharper - now they belonged to a beautiful woman. Winter looked tired, but that was to be expected. She looked slimmer than Pierce remembered, as if she had been jogging regularly all these years.

-Are you...Thompson? We have met…

“Yes, it’s me,” Winter said quickly, not wanting to remember that meeting, the meaning of which had eluded her until now. She expected to run into Pierce sooner or later because she knew she was assigned to the university hospital. However, Winter did not expect that this meeting would happen so soon and even in such a format.

-You're Pierce, aren't you?

“Yes, that’s right,” Pierce confirmed, mentally trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The card from the envelope said Winter Klein. Pierce was absolutely sure of this because the card still remained tucked into the corner of the mirror on her dressing table. Why she never threw it away after all these years, Pierce herself did not understand. This is my husband's last name A guess struck her. Thompson is her married name.

“I...start today,” Winter said into the silence that hung between them.

“I know,” Pierce tried to hide her shock.

It wasn't about who Winter was, or about the... something that had happened between them four years ago. Pierce had to do everything to stay on schedule; she had to regain control of the situation.

“I’m your senior resident, and we only have two minutes to meet the other residents in time.” Follow me,” with these words Pierce turned around and swung open the fire exit door leading to the stairs.

Winter tried to keep up.

So she's a senior resident?! God, this means we'll be working side by side with her every day for the next four or five months. You can imagine what Pierce thought of her. Winter practically allowed her, a complete stranger, to kiss her, and in the toilet too. And what's even worse is that after that she just left without saying a word. How much more stupid or even rude? In recent years, Winter often thought about that meeting. She regretted that evening for many reasons. Taking a deep breath, Winter tried to push away the memories. All this remained in the past and had no relation to the present. Now she had much more important things to do.

– We work on the shift of the head of Rifkin’s department? – Winter asked Pierce behind her.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Pierce pushed the door open with her shoulder, belatedly holding it open for Winter. Reluctantly, she began the lecture about local rules and regulations. She always didn't like doing this, but now, before visiting patients, the moment was much more inappropriate, because any inattention could cost her dearly.

“Did Connie give you the shift schedule?”

“Not yet,” Winter answered, trying to keep up with Pierce, who had sped up again. “It all happened pretty quickly; I had an interview with Dr. Rifkin just a couple of days ago. Connie checked me in last night and gave me a parking sticker, pay slip, and employee health card. All she said was that I was starting Rifkin's shift this morning and that someone would meet me at seven in the morning.

– Have you met any of the residents yet?

Pierce clenched her teeth. Her father, being the head of the department, could hire whoever he wanted, but it was highly unusual to interview a new resident without informing at least one of the senior residents. He must have known for several days that Winter would be on this shift, but he did not warn Pierce. She was ignored, but who said that democracy reigns in hospitals?

“You didn’t know anything about me, did you?” – Winter asked quietly.

Not surprisingly, she doesn't like this situation.

“What difference does it make?” Pierce stopped and turned to face her. The hospital gradually woke up, nurses and other staff were hurrying somewhere, preparing for a shift change. Together they resembled an island in the middle of a sea of ​​people dressed in white coats that surrounded them. – We have been missing one resident since September. One of the third year guys decided to switch to anesthesiology. We see fifty patients per shift, and that's every third night.

After these words, Winter turned pale.

– Every third night? It's hard.

Pierce grinned, a wild twinkle in her dark eyes.

“Nothing has changed here in the last sixty years.” We do not have substitutions while on duty. Each operation has its own on-duty residents. I don't think Connie told you about this.

“I think she just didn’t think about it,” Winter said discreetly. She tried not to give herself away and regain her balance. Her strength was being tested, and she was not going to give in. “And even if she warned me about it, what difference does it make?” I was just surprised.

- Yes, that’s how it is with us. Not that this is the norm, but there are rules here.

- No problem.

– Every day we gather in the cafeteria at half past five in the morning. Therefore, before this, you should already examine your patients and know their indicators, such as blood pressure, and tests.

Winter nodded, doing the math in her head. If she needs to arrive at the hospital at five in the morning, then she will have to get up at four. She can handle it! She had to cope, she had no choice.

Pierce turned sharply to the left, and, going down the stairs, they found themselves in the cafeteria, located on the ground floor. The round tables were already occupied by residents and students, most of whom were dressed in medical uniforms and white coats.

“Let's have some coffee,” Pierce suggested.

“Amen,” Winter muttered with relief.

As they stood in line, Pierce continued her explanation.

– There are four residents working per shift, not counting you: two first year, one second year, and me.

-Are you in charge?

“The rest of the fourth-year residents are busy in the lab, on other shifts in general surgery, or doing vascular work.” Pierce grabbed a bagel and a box of cream cheese, then poured herself a half-liter paper cup of coffee to the brim. – We have only one position of chief surgical resident. The remaining fifth-year residents are assigned to other hospitals.

Judging by the tone in which these words were spoken, Pierce considered anyone who finished a residency at a university hospital not as a chief surgical resident to be a loser, Winter thought. And she could understand why. Killing five years of your life and finishing second - well, no. Winter has already lost one year. She had to accept the position of third-year resident, otherwise surgery could be completely forgotten. She felt anger well up in her soul and tried to quickly suppress it. What is done is done. Now all she had to do was move forward.

– If there are five residents working per shift, why are we on duty every third night?

Pierce handed ten dollars to the cashier and asked him to count them both. Winter protested.

“It’s a tradition: the senior resident always treats the newbie to coffee for the first time,” Pierce explained, looking over her shoulder at Winter. – As for our shift, you and I look after the first-year residents, plus the second-year resident helps us with this, so it turns out that there are three of us and we work every third night. The head of the department does not trust first-year students enough to leave them alone with patients.

Winter played this diagram in her head. Two first year residents and one second year, who was also technically considered a junior resident. And one Pierce. The ends didn't meet.

– Who then insures the second first-year student if you are the only senior resident on duty?

- I am. So you and I have to split up shifts now so I can keep an eye on one of the first years in one night.

– In one night?! – Winter tried to hold back a cry of horror. Such a work schedule can drive anyone into the grave. Winter worked like this only a few times when another resident was unable to come out due to exceptional family circumstances or became so ill that he was unable to get out of bed. Winter remembered well one of the main commandments of surgeons: “The only reason you can’t go to work is a funeral, and your own.”

– How long have you been working in this mode? – she asked Pierce.

She shrugged. It made no difference to her whether she was on duty or not. She was always nearby. It was necessary. She knew what she wanted and what it cost.

- For some time.

- It's clear.

Winter thought it wouldn't be too smart to bring up the new eighty-four hour rule. In theory, residents of any specialty were officially prohibited from working more than eighty-four hours a week. In addition, they were entitled to one day off per week, and they had to go home immediately after their daily duty at the hospital. However, in surgery, all these rules were often interpreted in their own way.

It was believed that surgery could only be studied in practice, that is, in the operating room, and if operations were on the schedule, then residents had to be present there at any time of the day or night. Residents who expressed dissatisfaction with their assignment to operations often subsequently received the most uninteresting cases or were expelled from residency altogether. Programs like the University of Pennsylvania initially recruited more residents with the expectation that not all of them would make it to their fifth year.

Winter couldn't afford to lose this position. If she has to work a hundred hours a week, well, she'll work her butt off. You just need to adjust a few things in your personal life.

“And here is our team,” Pierce said and shook her head towards the table at which three young men were sitting. “Guys, I brought reinforcements,” she added, sitting down on a chair. Pierce did not apologize for being late.

Winter sat between Pierce and a slender Asian man who looked too young to be a doctor in his own right. Must be one of the first years. She nodded to each of them in turn, trying to remember their names: Liu, Kenny and Bruce. The guys greeted her with grumbling and a short “hello.” It was not difficult to tell which of them was on duty at night: he was unshaven and smelled of sweat. But Winter was not embarrassed. The stressful work brought the residents together, and the camaraderie helped them endure a lot.

Winter was acutely aware of the presence of Pierce, sitting to her left and radiating such powerful energy that Winter could feel it on her skin. She still remembered Pierce's hot hands. All the years that have passed, these memories have been as bright and hot as the touch itself.

“Bring us up to date, Kenny, and you can be free,” Pierce said.

Exhausted, Kenny shook his head.

– I want to stay for laparoscopy of the gallbladder, which Miller does.

– There is a similar operation on the schedule for tomorrow, you can assist there. Your shift ends at eight in the morning, so take advantage of it.

Kenny was not happy about this proposal, but still nodded. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket, unfolded it, and began to read.

– Ward 1213, Konstantin, femoral-popliteal anastomosis, fourth day after surgery. The maximum temperature for the day is 38.3, the current one is 37.7. I pulled out the drain and told him to get out of bed and sit in a chair three times a day.

- Pulse? – Pierce asked, making notes for herself on a blank sheet of paper.

– Plus four in the tibialis posterior muscle.

Pierce raised her head.

– And in the dorsal artery of the foot?

“I couldn’t find it.”

– Was it not felt or was it you who couldn’t count it?

Seeing the expression on Piers Kenny's face, he became embarrassed.

– I can’t answer this question.

- So go and find out. Next.

Winter leaned over to Pierce and asked for a piece of paper. Pierce silently handed the paper to Winter, who immediately began making her notes. It took about twenty minutes more to discuss the remaining fifty patients. At the same time, two other residents voiced the information that they were supposed to report. They finished at six fifteen.

“Liu, you have a mastectomy at eight with Frankel.” Bruce, you're on amputation with Weinstein, and you, Kenny, get out of here. Thompson and I are on the floor.

– What about the department’s aneurysm operation?

Pierce carefully folded the piece of paper with notes and placed it in her breast pocket.

– Dzubrov will do this.

The guys looked at each other, but refrained from commenting.

- So, go ahead and sing. Make all necessary notes before operations. I don't want to clean up after you.

Winter waited until the other residents collected their papers, took their trays, and left.

– It seems you didn’t get the operation because of me?

- Not in this case.

Pierce took her smartphone out of the case on her belt, where she also had a simple pager and a code pager. All these devices pulled her pants down, and they almost fell off her.

- Do you have?

Winter silently pulled out her PDA from her breast pocket.

– I’ll give you my mobile number, my pager and the guys’ pagers. Connie will give you all the necessary faculty numbers.

- And the number of the department head? Winter asked as Pierce sent her the promised numbers over the wireless connection.

Pierce grinned. Yes, Winter is definitely not stupid, however, this was evident when she was still a student. You had to know the number of the department head by heart.

- And your?

This is the second most important number.

“Now I have everything I need,” Winter said, smiling faintly.

- Then let's go on a tour. Let's make a round and I'll tell you about the attending doctors.

– How many more are there besides Rifkin?

-What about him? The heads of the department usually no longer perform many operations.

Pierce shook her head.

- This is not about him. He performs four to five major surgeries three days a week.

- Wow! How does he do this?

“He works in two operating rooms from eight in the morning until midnight on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

– And on Fridays? – Winter asked with a heavy sigh.

- Yes, and it sucks, especially considering that the night from Friday to Saturday may be the only free night you have all weekend.

– It turns out that the senior resident also needs to be in both operating rooms? – asked Winter.

– You pick it up on the fly. Yes, you and I start and finish his operations,” Pierce confirmed, “and he walks between operating rooms and does the most important part, this satisfies the requirements of the insurance companies.

Winter didn't want to overload Pierce with questions, but she seemed willing to share information that promised to make Winter's life a lot easier. So she continued.

– Does he allow you to do anything?

- Always different. How good are you yourself?

- What do you think?

This question came out of Winter on its own; she didn’t even understand why she asked it. The first days in a new place are always difficult. Now she had to prove her worth again. She didn't expect to see Pierce here, and especially not on the first day and not in such an environment. The meeting with Pierce stunned Winter. She was confused by the fact that they would see each other every day, and every day she would again wonder if Pierce remembered those few minutes when something so strong arose between them that the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. Winter remembered this moment, although she decided not to waste time on the memories.

“Well, you were right about my lip,” Pierce said quietly.

Winter looked carefully at Pierce’s face: a white scar was visible on the border of her lip.

“I told you, I needed stitches.”

“Yes, I did,” Pierce agreed and stood up abruptly. - Let's go to.

“Okay,” Winter answered quickly and also rose from her seat.

Winter didn’t even hear Pierce’s answer, the noise was so loud in her ears. She stared at Pierce as she finally got the whole picture together in her head. Winter remembered the sign next to the office door: Ambrose P. Rifkin, MD. Ambrose Pier Rifkin.

- So you are related to the head of the department? – she asked in complete amazement.

- He is my father.

“It’s so nice of you to tell me about this,” Winter snapped, frantically trying to remember if she had blurted out anything unnecessary about the head of the department. - God!

Pierce looked at her coldly.

- What's the difference?

“It just doesn’t bother me to know about it.”

Pierce leaned toward Winter.

- How is it with your husband then?

Before Winter could find anything to say, Pierce turned and walked away.

Oh God, she never forgave me. But Winter hasn’t forgiven herself either.