By the time my shift ended, the sun was beginning to dip below the skyline, casting long streaks of orange and gold through the hospital windows.
The hallway lights seemed harsher against the fading daylight, reflecting off the polished floors as nurses hurried past to finish their evening rounds. I unclipped my pager and placed it on the counter before signing out. My shoulders ached, but it was the good kind of ache—the kind that reminded me I had done something truly meaningful.
Little Khole's laughter from earlier that day echoed faintly in my mind. She had insisted on showing me a drawing before being discharged: a stick figure with messy brown hair and my name scribbled proudly above it.
Dr. Sophie, she had written carefully, the letters uneven but determined.
I had taped the paper to the inside of my locker door before leaving. A small smile tugged at my lips as I stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut, muting the hum of the busy floor, leaving just me and my reflection in the mirrored wall.
When the elevator opened into the main lobby, warm sunset light spilled across the marble tiles. I inhaled slowly as I stepped outside into the evening air. The city felt different at this hour—softer, slower. The heavy weight that had been sitting in my chest for weeks felt noticeably lighter tonight.
Mr. Lu held the car door open, and I slid inside. The city lights flickered past the window as we drove, warm reflections stretching across the glass. When the Lumen Hotel came into view, glowing brightly beneath the darkening sky, I thanked him and stepped out into the lively hum of music and laughter spilling from the entrance.
Inside the lounge, I immediately spotted Amy at the bar, passionately giving a rude, drunken man a piece of her mind. Her fiery mood vanished, and her face lit up the moment she turned around and caught sight of me.
"Sophie!" she greeted cheerfully.
I walked toward her and pulled her into a tight hug. After we separated, I ordered a martini from the bartender and slid onto one of the vacant velvet stools. Amy reclaimed her seat beside me.
"You look surprisingly calm," she observed after taking a sip of her drink. "What did I miss?"
As soon as the bartender handed me my glass, I lifted it and drank half in one smooth gulp. "Harley and I are actually making progress," I said, setting the glass back down on the counter.
"That's great news."
I was about to elaborate when another man—younger than the first—approached our corner of the bar and offered to buy us a round. When I politely declined, he immediately asked for our phone numbers. Dealing with intoxicated men could be utterly exhausting.
Amy shot him a lethal glare. "We are not interested, nor are we available. And even if we were available, you would be the absolute last person on earth we'd look at."
Ouch.
The man retreated with his head lowered in defeat. I turned to Amy, who calmly took another sip of her cocktail. "That was a bit harsh, don't you think?"
"Guys like that don't take no for an answer," she replied nonchalantly. "Besides, it's the truth."
I chuckled softly. "First of all, I am very much single and available. And secondly, he wasn't even that bad-looking. A little foolish, sure, but—"
"You better not let Harley hear you say that," she interrupted, a teasing smirk spreading across her face. "Speaking of Harley… are you really not going to give him a real chance?"
I ran my index finger slowly around the rim of my martini glass. "I'm comfortable just being his closest friend right now."
It was true. Harley and I were finally at a place where we could talk without heavy tension or cold shoulders between us. It honestly surprised me—especially considering how long he could hold a grudge when he felt wronged. Back in elementary school, I once called him out for scaring one of my friends away. For an entire month, he acted as if I didn't exist—his eyes sliding right past me, his footsteps never slowing down for me. If Auntie and Uncle hadn't stepped in and forced us into the same room, I wasn't sure we ever would have found our way back to each other.
Amy finished her drink and leaned forward, resting her head flat on the bar counter while staring up at me. "I just want you to be happy, Soph," she murmured, her eyelids drooping before she promptly passed out cold.
I smiled fondly, shaking my head at her sudden slumber.
After settling our bill with the bartender, I called Nicholas to come pick her up. He arrived thirty minutes later, slightly out of breath, his hair faintly rumpled.
"Are you okay?" I asked, looking him over.
He straightened his shoulders and flashed his signature, charismatic smile before winking. "Had to take care of something on the way here."
Nicholas Lu—the third son of the influential Lu family. With little ever expected of him and a father far too obsessed with his older brother, Nicholas had found his own reckless outlet growing up: street fighting. I supposed everyone coped with life differently. Everyone needed an outlet.
I watched as he effortlessly lifted Amy bridal-style, looking down at her sleeping face with a surprising, gentle softness. They really did look good together. Nicholas had liked Amy since our freshman year of high school—I had seen it in the subtle way he watched her back then. He just never acted on it.
"I thought you gave up fighting," I murmured as we walked toward the exit.
"I did."
"Liar." I smacked his arm lightly. "You were definitely disciplining some thug."
He chuckled softly. "I gave up fighting for fun. But I can't just stand by and watch someone helpless get bullied."
Nicholas had always been chivalrous like that. More than once, he had helped me out of difficult situations—situations I had intentionally chosen to call him for instead of Harley, because I knew Harley would have escalated things into utter chaos.
We stopped in front of his sports car.
"Take good care of my best friend," I said softly.
He smiled warmly down at me. "We're all really happy you're back, Sophie. Things haven't been the same since you left."
A sudden warmth bloomed inside my chest. I blinked quickly, brushing away a stray tear before it could fall. "Thank you, Nicholas."
He placed Amy carefully into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. "Do you need a ride home?" he asked, looking over the top of the car.
"Mr. Lu is waiting for me near the entrance," I reassured him.
After giving him a quick, affectionate hug, I turned and walked back toward the hotel doors. The night sky had darkened noticeably while we were inside. I tilted my head upward just as a single, cool droplet of rain landed right on the tip of my nose.
Without warning, the skies opened into a soft drizzle. Laughing quietly to myself, I covered my head with my purse and jogged toward the waiting silver car.