THE NEXT DAY arrived, and the team continued their investigation, though the pressure of juggling the mystery and their current patients was pressing down on them.

“Good morning,” Luke Anderson greeted as he entered the office. The others—Juliette Hooper, Catherine Hudson, and James Chan—were already there, immersed in their work.

“Why are you so happy?” Chan asked, looking up from his notes with a raised brow. “You finally got a date for Valentine’s?”

“No,” Anderson replied, a bright smile lighting up his face.

“Then, why?” Chan pressed, his tone suspicious.

“Nothing,” Anderson said with a chuckle as he took a seat beside Hudson, who was buried in a pile of papers. “I just feel happy. Is that a crime?”

“Better save that happiness before Selena shows up and finds us with all this work still unfinished,” Hooper muttered, taking a sip of her coffee. She settled into her seat beside Chan and across from Hudson, adjusting her reading glasses and picking up a pen as she started skimming through a paper.

Anderson leaned back, his green eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked at Hooper. “You’re acting like her.”

“Who?” Hooper asked, glancing up from her papers toward the blonde-haired man.

“Doctor Hale,” Anderson replied, his grin easy. “Doesn’t even need glasses to see better, but she still wears them.”

“What do you mean?” Chan asked, his slanted eyes getting smaller with his smile.

“Am I the only one who noticed that her glasses don’t have a prescription?” Anderson replied. “They’re just normal. Photochromic, to be precise—they darken in sunlight.”

“How did I miss that?” Chan chuckled, shaking his head as he stared out the window. “Nearly a whole year of her wearing them, and I never even noticed.”

“See?” Anderson said, gesturing emphatically. “We’ve all been so busy and preoccupied lately. We need to smile once in a while.”

“Can you please just shush?” Hudson snapped, not even looking up from her papers. “I’m trying to focus on the research Doctor Hale told me to finish before she strolls in here and accuses us of being lazy.”

The room fell silent after that, each of them returning to their tasks. “Okay, then,” Chan spoke in a whisper as he stood up and looked for files on Hale's table.

Anderson followed soon. “I was right,” he whispered to James. “She is finally becoming Hale's prodigy. But Hudson has her attitude.”

The two laughed and Hudson's brown eyes landed on them, making them stop.

“Alright, just shush you two. We got work to do,” Hooper spoke.

—

MEANWHILE, in Examination Room One, Emily Weston greeted her first patient of the day: a ten-year-old girl sitting on the exam table beside her mother.

“Good morning, Doctor,” the mother said politely.

“Good morning,” Emily replied with a warm smile, glancing at the file in her hands before shifting her focus to the girl, who was coughing continuously. “You must be Agatha Guevarra.”

The girl nodded shyly, her face pale but attentive.

“Alright, Agatha. Let’s check your temperature first,” Emily said as she picked up the thermometer. She placed it gently under the girl’s tongue and waited as it registered. Once it beeped, she read it aloud. “37.9°C—slightly elevated, but not too concerning.”

Emily then draped her stethoscope around her neck, crouching slightly to meet the girl’s eye level. “Now, I’m going to listen to your breathing, okay? Just breathe normally for me.”

Placing the stethoscope’s diaphragm against Agatha’s chest, Emily listened carefully to her lungs, instructing her to take deep breaths as needed. The sound of mild wheezing caught her attention. Moving the stethoscope to different areas, she made mental notes before standing upright again.

Turning to the mother, Emily asked, “Has she experienced a fever, Ma’am? Any other symptoms besides the cough? And how long has she been coughing?”

The mother nodded. “Yes, Doctor. She had a fever two days ago, but it’s been on and off. The cough has lasted about a week now, and she’s been complaining of a sore throat. Yesterday, she said her chest hurt when she coughed, and I noticed she’s more tired than usual.”

Emily jotted down the details, her expression calm. “Has she had any runny nose, shortness of breath, or loss of appetite?”

“A little runny nose earlier in the week, but no loss of appetite. She seems to eat fine,” the mother replied.

“Any known allergies? Or has she been exposed to someone with a similar cough recently?”

“No allergies, and no one at home is sick,” the mother said. “But she goes to school, so…”

Emily nodded knowingly. “Schools can be breeding grounds for infections. Based on her symptoms and what I’ve heard in her lungs, it sounds like she has a mild upper respiratory tract infection, likely viral. The wheezing could indicate some mild bronchospasm caused by the infection. I’ll prescribe something to help manage her symptoms and ease her breathing.”

She turned to Agatha with a smile. “You’ve been very brave, Agatha. I’m going to give you some medicine to help with your cough and make it easier to breathe.”

Emily walked over to the counter and wrote a prescription. Handing it to the mother, she explained, “This includes a bronchodilator syrup to ease the wheezing and a simple cough suppressant for the night to help her sleep. Make sure she stays hydrated and gets plenty of rest. If her fever returns, or if the cough worsens and she starts to struggle with breathing, bring her back immediately. Otherwise, she should be better in about a week.”

The mother looked relieved. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” Emily said warmly. “Take care, Agatha.”

The little girl’s lips curved into a faint smile as her hand lifted in a wave. Emily released a slow breath, her shoulders sagging slightly as she turned toward the next chart waiting on the desk.

—

SELENA decided to take a walk, hoping it would help her think more clearly about the mystery at hand. But as she moved, her mood darkened. The city’s noise wasn’t grounding her today—it was just another reminder of how annoyingly unpredictable life could be.

She was lost in thought when someone barreled into her, nearly knocking her over. Selena turned sharply, her glare sharp.

“Seriously?” she snapped. “Did the concept of walking in a straight line offend you?”

The woman who had bumped into her didn’t stop to apologize. Instead, she stumbled a few feet before tripping and landing hard on the pavement.

The girl scrambled to her feet, keeping her head down and muttering a sharp curse under her breath. Selena smirked, folding her arms. “Pathetic,” she muttered under her breath.

Selena barely flinched, ready to brush it off and move along, when something caught her eye—a streak of red smeared across the pavement. Her gaze dropped to the girl’s hands, trembling slightly, the skin smeared with blood from where they’d pressed against the ground.

“Karma’s efficient today,” Selena muttered, her tone laced with dry amusement as she turned on her heel. She only made it a step before pausing, the sensation of someone hovering behind her prickling at the edge of her awareness. Before she could fully turn, a hand clamped down on her arm, firm and unyielding.

“Did you just call me pathetic?” the girl demanded, her voice trembling with anger, blood still dripping from her hands.

Selena raised an eyebrow, her voice cold. “If the shoe fits…”

The girl’s face twisted in fury, and without warning, she punched Selena square in the face, knocking her glasses to the ground.

“What the—” Selena exclaimed, stumbling back a step.

“And look at you,” the girl sneered, her voice shaking. “You’re the pathetic one here!”

Selena’s jaw tightened as she stepped forward, her piercing gaze locked on the girl. She grabbed the girl’s arm. “Did you just punch me?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm but her eyes burning with fury.

The girl tried to yank her arm free, glancing nervously at the small crowd that had begun to gather. “Yeah, I did,” she shot back. “And you deserved it.”

Selena’s nostrils flared, but before she could respond, the girl broke free and started to run. She didn’t make it far before collapsing onto the pavement.

Selena stared at the girl, her anger quickly replaced by curiosity. “I didn’t do something to her,” she said loudly, glancing at the onlookers.

“That brat deserved it,” someone in the crowd muttered.

Selena rolled her eyes. “Great. A supportive audience,” she said sarcastically.

As she considered leaving, another girl rushed toward the fallen one, accidentally bumping into Selena in her haste.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” the new girl stammered.

Selena’s patience snapped. “Is bumping into me a citywide hobby today? Or are you all just blind with perfect vision?”

Minutes later, the ambulance arrived. Selena stood to the side, watching as the paramedics worked. Then, an idea struck her.

“Mind if I get a ride?” she asked the new girl, who looked at her, confused.

“Uh… what?”

Selena raised her hand impatiently. “Relax. I’m a doctor, and I’m going to the same hospital. Save me the trouble of walking back. At least no one will bump me again while I'm having a peaceful walk.”

Without waiting for an answer, Selena climbed into the ambulance. As it sped toward St. Luke’s, she leaned back against the wall, her mind racing. She glanced at the unconscious girl, the blood on her hands still vivid.

“Well, aren’t you just a walking plot twist,” Selena muttered. “Let’s see what your deal is.”

—

The team was in the middle of their work when their pagers suddenly beeped in unison.

“New patient,” Chan said, already reaching for his lab coat and slipping it on.

“I really hope it’s not one of those cases,” Hooper muttered, pulling on her coat with a resigned sigh. Anderson silently shrugged into his own. Hudson, however, stayed where she was, her gaze fixed on the files in front of her.

Hale was already in the ER with the patient—the same woman who had swung a fist at her earlier, only to crumble to the ground moments later.

The second the ambulance doors opened, Selena had taken command, unable to resist the pull of control—or the intrigue sparked by the girl’s abrupt collapse.

When the rest of the team arrived, they found Selena at the bedside of a pale, unconscious young woman. The initial chaos had subsided, and the others had done their part in stabilizing her, leaving Selena intently studying the vitals monitor, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Who called us?” Hooper asked as she approached, glancing at the monitors already hooked up to the patient.

“I did,” Selena replied curtly, barely looking up. “This one’s ours.”

Anderson raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Hooper. “You’ve already diagnosed her, haven’t you?”

Selena smirked faintly. “Not yet. But let’s just say I’m motivated. She’s the one who thought punching me in the face was a brilliant idea.”

Chan sighed, stepping forward to examine the patient. “And you’re sure this isn’t personal?”

Selena tilted her head, her voice laced with biting sarcasm. “Oh, it’s absolutely personal. But she also collapsed, has blood on her hands, and is presenting with a fascinating array of symptoms we’re about to discover. So, you’re welcome.” She paused, her tone softening into a low, resigned murmur as she exhaled. “And Dr. Harris spotted me in the ambulance and decided the patient was officially my responsibility. Lucky me.”

“You okay with that?” Chan asked.

“She said she's the boss,” Selena replied.

Hooper stepped around to the other side of the bed. “Vitals are stable for now. Blood pressure’s a bit low, but nothing critical. What happened before she went down?”

Selena crossed her arms, her expression a mix of irritation and curiosity. “Ran into me—literally. Left blood on the pavement. Then decided to start a fight and lost. Collapsed while trying to make a getaway. No visible injuries, but the blood wasn’t hers.”

Anderson frowned as he snapped on a pair of gloves, preparing for a more detailed examination. “If the blood wasn’t hers, she might’ve been exposed to something—a pathogen, a toxin, who knows.”

“Exactly,” Selena said, her smirk creeping back. “And lucky us, we get to solve it before she wakes up and takes another swing.”

Without another word, the team sprang into motion—drawing blood, ordering labs, and piecing together the clues to their newest medical mystery.

The woman from earlier moved back and forth in the hallway, her steps quick and uneven, fingers twisting the strap of her bag.

Selena tucked her glasses into the pocket of her lab coat, her eyes narrowing as she strode toward the woman, every step drawing the woman’s anxious pacing to a halt.

“Does your friend happen to enjoy punching people, or was that just a one-time performance?” Selena asked.

The woman stopped mid-step, her eyes snapping to Selena. “How is she? I saw other doctors go into the room. Is she okay?”

“Answer my question first,” Selena replied, her tone cutting.

The woman’s gaze dropped to the faint bruise blooming on Selena’s cheek, and her eyes widened. “Wait… did she hit you, too?”

“Oh, so this isn’t her first time,” Selena said dryly, folding her arms. “How many others?”

The woman flushed with embarrassment, hesitating. “I… I don’t see how that’s relevant. Is this… part of figuring out what’s wrong with her?”

Selena tilted her head. “That depends. Does her habit of throwing punches come with any medical conditions I should know about, or is it just a personality quirk? Because if it’s the former, it might help me treat her. If it’s the latter, she owes me an apology.”

The woman fidgeted, her words tumbling out awkwardly. “Will… will that help save Katana?”

Selena’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “That’s entirely up to you. But here’s some free advice: honesty? It’s a great time-saver.”

The woman bit her lip, her hesitation slowly dissolving under Selena’s piercing gaze. “Alright. She’s... had some anger issues. She’s been in a fight earlier today with three boys.”

Selena’s smirk faded, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Thank you for that inspiring confession. Stay here.”