Rain's POV:
I trace the edge of the silver card for what has to be the fifty-eighth time as I step out of the center, the cool metal grounding me.
A hopeful smile sneaks onto my lips before I can stop it.
Things are finally getting better.
Mom would have opinions.
She always thought Paeds would be perfect for me.
Trauma medicine? she'd say, eyebrows climbing.
That's not like you, sweetie.
And she'd mean well.
Still, something warm hums low in my chest at the thought of fixing things that are broken beyond the obvious.
Of stepping into the wreckage instead of looking away.
I'm almost past reception when hurried footsteps close in behind me.
"Rain—hi, you!"
I barely have time to turn before Dahlia nearly barrels into my shoulder.
She skids to a stop beside me, breathless, eyes bright.
"Whatcha doing?" she asks, already talking too fast.
"Can I hang with you, please?"
