Chapter 2

First thing the next morning, I spotted Whitney and Gina Pollard huddled in a corner, whispering.

Not long after the shift started, Gina had the entire department fill out a peer evaluation form.

The form read, [Who do you believe is the most deserving candidate for the Outstanding Nurse award in our department?]

Tara handed them out one by one. When she passed me, she shoved the paper into my hands.

"Being a good nurse isn't just about speaking up first. The hospital also looks at clinical performance and peer recommendations."

I looked up at her. "So?"

"So you shouldn't make this ugly. Whitney isn't fighting for it, but that doesn't mean the rest of us are blind."

She walked back to the nurses' station and was the first to write Whitney's name in the blank.

The others followed. One after another, they scribbled the name down without hesitation.

Whitney quickly turned to the room. "Don't write my name. Blair already applied. If everyone puts my name down, imagine how that'll make her feel."

Her mouth said stop, but her hand took the form that was passed to her without a second of hesitation.

Beth Sumner hooked her arm through Whitney's.

"We can write whoever we want. Just because you're not fighting for it doesn't mean we should let the loudest person walk away with it."

"Exactly. Once the director sees this many people backing you, she'll know who really deserves it."

"Whitney, don't be stubborn when the time comes. If the director personally asks you, you can't possibly turn her down."

Whitney stood in the middle of them, the corners of her eyes still red, barely keeping the smile off her face.

She let out a soft sigh. "If the director really does ask for me by name, I'll explain my reasons. But if I accept, it'll only be because I don't want to let everyone's support go to waste, not for the money."

When the form reached me, Tara paused deliberately.

"Blair, you should write Whitney's name too. Let the hospital see that our department is united. You've already applied. There's no reason to burn bridges with your coworkers on top of it."

I wrote my own name in the blank.

Tara's face darkened. "You've really got no shame."

"The form asks who I think deserves it most. I think it's me."

"Based on what?"

"Based on the stack of overdue bills on my father's hospital nightstand. Based on my sister not being able to pay for school."

I folded the form neatly and handed it directly to Janet.

"If I wrote someone else's name, that would be gambling with my family's lives just to look gracious."

Nobody in the nurses' station said a word.

Whitney lowered her head and gently dabbed at the corner of her eye. "Blair, nobody's asking you to be gracious. You just want to win so badly that you've turned everyone around you into the enemy."

The department tallied the results later.

Whitney received 23 votes. I received one.

Tara posted the results in the group chat.

[Well, there it is. The numbers speak for themselves.]

Replies flooded in right after.

[The hospital should have no trouble deciding now.]

[Whitney, start getting ready. I heard the winner gives a speech at the ceremony. Don't cry so hard you can't get through it.]

[Some people can turn in their paperwork all they want. The award isn't a prize for having the thickest skin.]

I stared at the 23-to-1 result, my stomach hollow and aching. My application was in, but as for whether or not the hospital would choose me, I had no idea.

The floating comments drifted into view.

[My blood pressure just spiked watching this. The award isn't a popularity contest. Twenty-three people praising her won't pay the 30,000 dollars Blair's father still owes for chemo.]

[Blair, don't let them scare you off. The director looks at performance and attitude, not who smiles the sweetest or plays the game the best.]

I turned off my phone screen, pulled on my gloves, and walked back into the trauma bay.

The results were not in yet.

Until they came in, I had to hold on. I had to keep myself going.