Chapter 2 : The Elevator

I remembered my badge just as the lift doors were closing.

I stared at the narrow strip of plastic that should have been clipped to my coat pocket.

But it wasn't there.

I checked the other pocket.

Nothing.

My purse.

Still nothing.

I closed my eyes.

Yes, of course.

I'd left it at the doctors' station.

The lift dinged softly as it arrived in the lobby. I stepped out and headed toward the reception desk.

“Doctor Carter?”

I paused.

A security officer behind the desk raised a hand.

“Did you forget something?”

“My badge.”

He smiled knowingly. “Long shift?”

“Very much.”

I spun around and headed back to the lifts.

The doors were still wide open.

I stepped inside and pushed the button for my floor.

The doors shut.

I leaned against the wall, watching the numbers climb above my head.

I should've gone home.

That was the thought that kept running through my mind as the lift carried me back up.

Go home.

Sleep.

Don't volunteer for another issue.

Don't stop and look at another chart.

Don't answer any more questions.

Just go home.

The doors opened.

The familiar sounds of the emergency department hit me as soon as I stepped out.

I headed to the doctors' station, found my badge right where I'd left it, and clipped it to my coat.

“Located it?” Sarah called.

I looked back.

“Yes.”

“You really can't live without that?”

“Apparently not.”

She laughed.

“I thought you were running off.”

“I was.”

“And you're back.”

“I forgot something.”

“That’s how they get you.”

I shook my head.

“Good night, Sarah.”

“Good night, Doctor.”

I looked away and glanced at my phone.

Another message from my sister.

You better call me when you get home.

I couldn't help smiling.

Coming.

I shoved the phone into my bag and headed back toward the lifts.

This time, I could not be stopped.

At least, that's what I figured.

The lift arrived.

I stepped inside and pushed the button for the lobby.

The doors began to close.

“Wait.”

A man's voice came from the corridor.

I saw him coming.

Dark suit.

Great.

He had a phone pressed to his ear.

He didn't run, not exactly, but he moved with that unmistakable air of somebody used to doors opening before he got to them.

He came closer.

My finger hovered over the open-door button.

I could press it.

I could wait.

I could be nice.

The doors kept closing.

He was still several paces away.

I put my hand down.

The doors closed.

There was silence for one glorious second.

Then the lift started going down.

I breathed out.

That was not my fault.

I hadn't seen his face clearly. I had no idea who he was. I was not about to run back into a corridor after twelve hours in an emergency department because a stranger expected a lift to wait for him.

The lift halted at the next floor.

The doors swung open.

The same man was outside.

He stepped inside.

He looked at me.

I stared at him.

We didn't say a word.

The doors shut again.

He clicked his phone closed.

“Could've used the lift.”

His voice was steady.

Too steady.

I stared at him.

“You should have been here before the doors closed.”

He clenched his jaw.

“I was standing right here.”

“And I was already in.”

“That doesn't explain why you couldn't push a button.”

I looked at him.

“I pressed a button.”

“The open-door button.”

“Nope.”

His eyebrows went up.

“Not?”

“Not.”

The lift kept going down.

It was a small space, but suddenly it seemed even smaller.

He pocketed his phone.

“You saw me coming.”

“Yes.”

“And you shut the doors anyway.”

“Yes.”

There was something in his expression that suggested he wasn't used to getting such straightforward answers.

“Uh-huh.”

“Good.”

His eyes flickered.

“Do you always treat people like this?”

I felt like laughing.

“People who approach me with accusations of bad manners?”

“You knew I was trying to get in.”

“And you knew the lift was going down.”

“So you admit you didn't listen to me.”

“Sure. I didn't hold a lift door open for a stranger.”

He looked me over.

Not casually.

Like he was trying to figure out what kind of person would say that to his face.

I crossed my arms.

“Anything else?”

“I'm very good at rudeness. I expect to be good at it.”

“And you're very comfortable expecting strangers to fit you into their plans.”

Almost amusement flickered across his face for the first time.

Nearly.

And then it was gone.

“I didn't ask for special treatment.”

“It sounded like it.”

“I asked for common courtesy.”

“And I wanted five minutes of my life back.”

His eyes flickered over me.

The white coat.

The weary face.

The hospital tag.

He looked at me again.

“You work here.”

“Congratulations.”

“Which department?”

I looked at the numbers on the panel.

“Why?”

He didn't reply at once.

I could see he was irritated by my question.

Good.

At least we were both equally pissed off.

The lift stopped in the lobby.

The doors swung open.

I stepped out.

He strode after me.

“Good night,” he said.

It didn't sound like a wish.

It sounded like a dismissal.

I stopped and glanced back.

“Good night.”

Then I walked off.

I didn't look back.

I didn't care who he was.

I'd spent the whole night with people who needed something from me. The last thing I needed was some stranger who believed the world should rearrange itself because he had somewhere important to be.

I pushed my way through the hospital's main doors.

Cool night air blew across my face.

I paused for half a second.

Still, there was life in the city outside. Cars streamed down the street, their headlights skimming the pavement. A horn sounded somewhere nearby.

Normal.

Quiet enough.

I shouldered my bag and headed for the parking lot.

The hospital doors behind me opened again.

The lift man came out.

He stood by the entrance, looking at his phone.

I kept walking.

Whatever his problem was, it wasn't my problem.

By tomorrow morn

ing, I most likely wouldn't remember his face.

And he wouldn't remember mine, either.

At least, that's what I thought as I headed to my car.

I unlocked the door and climbed in.

The hospital disappeared behind the closed car door.

I didn't know I'd just argued with the man who would become my patient.

And I didn't know his name was Damian Blackwood.