Hope’s Pov

I woke up with a jolt, nausea churning in my stomach. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was doubled over, expelling the remnants of yesterday's meals. The metallic taste of bile lingered in my mouth, so I rinsed vigorously before brushing my teeth, trying to rid myself of the sour aftertaste.

 The pounding headache that had been building all night finally asserted itself, and I couldn't ignore it any longer. As I emerged from the bathroom, I spotted a note on my vanity table, paired with a glass of juice and some tablets, labeled with "eat me" and "drink me" respectively. The familiar handwriting belonged to Mya, always thoughtful in her own unique way.

 "Aww, Mya. Always looking out for me," I murmured, taking the tablets and downing them with the juice.

 After a refreshing bath, I headed downstairs, where I found Mya in the kitchen, clad in a man's shirt—Ken's, judging by the logo. She was engrossed in her laptop, her focus so intense that she didn't notice me immediately.

 I couldn't resist teasing her. "Girl, did I miss something?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

 Mya's cheeks flushed a deep red. "You missed something alright."

 "Am just glad I didn't hear anything," I said, moving towards the fridge for some cold milk. "Where's Prince Charming, anyway?"

 "Oh, you just missed him," Mya said, turning her chair to face me. That was when I noticed she was wearing Ken's shirt from the previous night.

 "Bitch, you didn't—he didn't—" I stammered, pointing at the shirt.

 "What? I told him I missed his scent, and he left me the shirt. Besides, he took something from his pocket," she said with a nonchalant smile.

 Oh God.

 "Exactly what you're thinking, sweetheart," Mya whispered, as she got up and headed upstairs, presumably for a bath.

 "Oh, and it's almost lunchtime," she called out midway up the stairs. "Could you fix something? I need to finalize some paperwork."

 "You got it," I replied, shaking my head with a smile.

 By the time Mya returned, I had prepared a hearty meal of steak, mashed potatoes, and a fresh salad. A bottle of red wine completed the meal, set elegantly on the dining table.

 "Damn, girl. You've outdone yourself," Mya said as she sat down and started digging in.

 "Well, I didn't enroll in culinary school during summer break for nothing," I replied, taking a sip of wine.

 "That reminds me," Mya said between bites. "Ken's birthday is next weekend. And you, my love, are making the cake. I'll handle the other snacks."

 "No problem," I said, smiling. "So, tell me more about my new job."

 "You start tomorrow," Mya said, her tone shifting to business. "I'll introduce you to the hospital board. You'll be working in the Pediatric section."

 "I thought you were in human resources at the company?" I asked, puzzled.

 "I oversee all human resources across the family businesses," she clarified. "So I make the final decisions. And I'm doing the dishes."

 I nodded in understanding and left her to it.

 ---

 The next morning arrived in a blur. I was up by seven, preparing for my first day at the hospital. Mya and I had coffee before setting off. The drive was long and tedious, taking us about two hours through congested traffic.

 "Mya, I think I should find a place closer to the hospital," I said, looking out at the sprawling cityscape.

 "Relax, that's already been sorted. You'll be needed quite often," she explained, a hint of reassurance in her voice.

 "What do you mean?" I asked.

 "We'll be living nearby, don't worry," she said with a reassuring smile. "Come on, let me get you started."

 At the hospital, Mya introduced me to the board members and showed me to my office. The board members were clear: the hospital was busy today, and I needed to start immediately.

 "Good luck today, doc," Mya said, giving me a quick hug before heading off.

 "Thanks," I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.

 As I turned to head to my new workspace, I collided with a nurse, sending her files scattering.

 "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" I apologized, bending down to help. Our heads bumped together, and I winced.

 "It's okay, don't worry about it," she said with a pained but friendly smile.

 "No, really, I wasn't watching where I was going," I said, rubbing my forehead.

 "I should be the one apologizing," she said, laughing softly. "I was running like a maniac. I was supposed to meet Dr. Miller, but I have no idea where she is. I'm probably going to get fired."

 I laughed at the irony. "Well, here I am, actually looking for directions."

 "Thank Moon Goddess," she said with a sigh of relief. "I was worried I'd end up packing my things tonight."

 "Moon Goddess?" I echoed, puzzled.

 We both laughed, easing the tension.

 "I didn't get your name," I asked extending her hand.

 "Nice to meet you,Dr Hope. I'm Beatrice Thompson, but you can call me Tris," she said.

 "And you can call me Hope," I replied with a smile.

 "I would love to chat more, but if I don't get you dressed and to your patients, I'll lose my job," she said, pulling me toward the elevator.

 "Where to?" I asked as we boarded.

 "To the 5th floor," she said, pressing the button.

 The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to a bustling pediatric ward. Tris led me to a locker room where I found scrubs, a lab coat, white sneakers, and a stethoscope waiting for me. I quickly changed and followed Tris to my first patient.

 "Okay, doc, your first patient is a kid with a severe cold," Tris said as we walked.

 "Do you have his medical history?" I asked.

 "He's a previous patient. No known allergies," she said, handing me his file.

 Nicholas Blackwood, aged 8, was recovering from chickenpox. I entered his room, finding a small, pale boy lying in bed, looking both adorable and miserable.

 "Hey sweetie, I'm Dr. Hope. What's your name?"

 "Nicholas," he said shyly.

 "That's a beautiful name. I'm going to check you over now, okay?" I said with a warm smile.

 His heartbeat was normal, but he complained of widespread pain. I decided to prescribe some ibuprofen for his discomfort.

 "Make sure he takes plenty of fluids, gets lots of rest and continue applying the lotion he was given." I instructed the nurse. "I'll be back to check on him later."

 "Thank you, ma'am," Nicholas said, his voice barely a whisper.

 "Doctor, we need you in the ER. There's an emergency, and you're the closest one available," a nurse interrupted.

 A young girl lay on the bed, convulsing and her body trembling uncontrollably.

 Her mother, frantic, explained, "This started about two minutes ago. She was supposed to meet Dr. Miller but…"

 I assessed the girl quickly, noting her rapid heartbeat I suspected an epileptic seizure.

 "Let's manage the seizure first," I directed, administering 5 mg of lorazepam IV push. "Page neurology and inform them of the situation." I instructed the nurse.

 I later learned that the girl was Mya's cousin, and her concern for her cousin's well-being had been evident in our earlier interactions.

 As the day wore on, I handled various cases with increasing confidence. There were a few emergencies, but nothing I couldn't manage. By the end of the day, I was called in by the council for a debrief.

 "Good night, Tris. No crazy nights," I said with a grin as she left.

 "Good night, Hope. As for crazy nights, I won't promise much. Good luck with the council," she said, her eyes filled with amusement.

 I approached the council's office with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The reception area was elegant, and the receptionist greeted me with a professional smile.

 "Good evening, I'm Hope Miller. I'm here to meet the council," I said.

 "They're in the board room, right through there," she said, pointing to a door.

 I knocked and entered as a deep voice called out, "Come in."

 Inside were five members of the council—two men and two women. They looked at me with varying degrees of scrutiny.

 "Please, have a seat, Dr. Miller," said the man in his late sixties. His voice was authoritative yet welcoming.

 "We are the council that governs the hospital, ahead of the board," one of the women said. "Only the president and vice president are missing."

 "They may or may not join this meeting

 "They may or may not join this meeting," the older man continued. "But let's get started. Dr. Miller, your work today was impressive. Handling emergencies on your first day isn't easy, especially when one of them involved a family member of a key staff member."

 I raised my eyebrow slightly. "Mya's cousin, I assume?"

 "Yes, precisely. You managed her condition with confidence and compassion," one of the women said. Her eyes softened as she added, "That's the kind of care we expect from our doctors here. Your reputation precedes you, and it seems you're already living up to it."

 I felt a wave of relief wash over me. "Thank you. I'm just happy to be here, doing what I love."

 "We're glad to have you," the other man, slightly younger with sharp features, said. "We've been in need of someone with your expertise and empathy. That blend is rare. There's one thing we'd like to discuss, though—something that wasn't covered in your initial interview."

 I stiffened slightly but nodded, bracing for the inevitable catch. "Of course, go ahead."

 The woman across from me, who hadn't spoken much until now, cleared her throat. "We understand you have a background in both pediatrics and trauma care, but we wanted to inquire about your experience with... more specialized cases. Ones that involve extreme, complex conditions."

 I leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "What exactly do you mean by 'specialized'? Are you referring to rare medical conditions, or something more?"

 The council exchanged glances, as if debating how much to divulge. Finally, the older man spoke again.

 "At this hospital, we often encounter cases that defy traditional medical explanations. We've had patients with rare, sometimes inexplicable ailments—ones that don't always follow the rules of conventional medicine."

 A knot formed in my stomach. "Are you asking me to treat patients with mysterious conditions that go beyond science?"

 "In a way, yes," the sharp-featured man said. "But what we're really asking is if you're open-minded enough to work with a team that doesn't always rely solely on textbooks and data."

 The woman who'd softened earlier added, "We have a responsibility to care for everyone who walks through these doors, no matter how unusual their circumstances. We need someone who can think creatively, who isn't afraid to explore the unknown when necessary."

 My mind raced. This wasn't what I'd expected, but the challenge intrigued me. I'd always prided myself on thinking outside the box in medicine—being able to blend my knowledge with a deep sense of empathy for my patients. But this sounded like it could be something else entirely.

 "I believe I can rise to that challenge," I said carefully. "I've always been open to new approaches, as long as the goal is to help the patient."

 The council members seemed satisfied with my answer, though their expressions remained unreadable.

 "Excellent," the older man said. "We'll see how you handle your next few cases, then."

 The meeting wrapped up soon after, and I left the boardroom feeling a mixture of excitement and unease. There was something more to this hospital—something they weren't telling me yet. But for now, I would focus on what I knew: taking care of my patients.

 I found Mya waiting outside the hospital entrance. She looked up from her phone as I approached, her eyes curious. "How'd it go?"

 "Interesting," I said, keeping my voice light. "They're not just looking for a doctor who knows their way around a stethoscope."

 Mya chuckled. "They never are. Welcome to the deep end, my friend."

 We climbed into her car, and as we drove back to her place, my mind couldn't shake the questions swirling around the council's words. There was something about this place—this hospital—that felt different, almost secretive.

 But for now, I'd take things one day at a time. My first day had gone well, and tomorrow, I'd be back to tackle whatever the hospital—and its mysteries—threw at me next.