Linda

Back then, she’d barely noticed as the machine hummed and buzzed and clanked around her. Now, as the machine slowly came online, every sound was magnified, adding to her unease.

Cassie shuddered from the cold and the nerves she couldn’t seem to shake.

She wondered anxiously what type of questions Dr. Ramsey would ask. Her low ranking in the fellowship competition and her handling of Mrs. Turner’s case last night didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

She could handle one or two things going wrong, but when everything piled on, she froze.

“Starting scan. Try not to move, Valentine,” Ethan’s voice boomed in the confined space.

Cassie exhaled slowly and forced herself to relax, mentally reviewing each of the five ballet positions until she felt the calm spread.

Here we go.

Ethan’s eyes shifted from the scan appearing on the screen to the smaller monitor beside it. Cassie had been fidgeting earlier—not surprising, as most people found the experience disorienting—but now she lay perfectly still inside the machine, her expression giving nothing away.

“Initial brain scan complete,” he said into the microphone. “We can begin.”

“How does it look?” she asked.

“Like an intern’s brain. In other words, nothing special.” He rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t see him.

“Gee, thanks,” she shot back sarcastically, making him grin.

“Focus, Valentine. Let’s try a softball question. What’s your fondest childhood memory?”

“Decorating the Christmas tree with my brother.” She smiled before continuing. “My mom said we could use whatever we wanted. It was the most ridiculous-looking thing, a hodgepodge of toy cars, action figures, and papier-mâché ornaments we had made in school. But it was ours, and we loved it.”

Cassie chuckled at the memory, and Ethan noted how her hippocampus lit up, the response spreading to her amygdala. It might have been a long time ago, but the memory was clearly still important to her.

“You wake up in prison. What did you do?”

“I shot a man in Reno.”

Ethan bit back a laugh at the quick response, delivered with relish.

“Be serious,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat.

“I am. He had it coming and only had himself to blame,” Cassie continued, steely-eyed. “If you’d have been there, if you’d have heard it, I bet you would have done the same.”

His eyes narrowed at the familiar words. Broadway musicals weren’t really his thing, but even he knew those lyrics.

“Are you reciting lyrics from a musical?” he demanded.

“Huh. I didn’t peg you for a musical fan.” She smiled mischievously. “After our frog rescue mission, I was positive you only listened to dead composers.”

Ethan ignored the implied insult. Really, she was too irreverent for an intern competing for a spot on his team.

“Moving on. I was surprised you didn’t ask me about your fellowship ranking when you chased me down earlier.”

“You wouldn’t have told me anyway,” she said, not even waiting a beat. “Besides, it’s irrelevant. I know I have to do better, so it’s not on you if I rank low.”

Ethan’s brows rose at her answer, and he wondered if she was telling the truth. He kept his eyes on the changing colors on the screen, tracking her neurological responses. A part of her believed it to be true, but it wasn’t the whole answer. She appeared conflicted.

He wanted to push further, but a glance at the clock had him reconsidering. They’d already been here too long, and he had an outpatient clinic starting in half an hour.

“Last one. Why did you want to become a doctor?”

“According to my brother, the role of Mother Teresa was taken.”

Ethan stared at the 3D map of her brain, but her wry response had him turning to the monitor. The corner of her lips twitched in a small smile before her expression became serious.

Her hypothalamus flared briefly, and he wondered at the reaction as she stayed silent.

“That’s it?” he probed, dissatisfied with the incomplete response.

“I’m thinking,” she replied, her words coming out slowly. “It’s a complicated question.”

“It’s really not, Rookie,” Ethan shot back.

“It was your research that inspired me to go into medicine.”

Scan forgotten, Ethan crossed his arms as he continued watching her on the monitor.

“I told you earlier to save the ass-kissing for someone it works on.”

“Oh, please.” She glared directly at the camera now.

“I’m not sucking up. I told you this last week at the baseball game, after I helped you win over those insurance execs. Which you never even thanked me for, by the way,” she said, disgruntled. “You really are the reason why I became a doctor. I want to help people the way you and the diagnostics team do. The people with nowhere else to go.”

Ethan turned his attention to the screen and saw several areas intensify as she repeated the team’s mission back to him, her tone signaling offense at not being taken seriously and passion for a cause that, until now, he believed only he and Naveen truly shared.

With his mentor gone, Ethan had lately begun to wonder how long he could keep Naveen’s legacy alive if there was no one else to pass it on to.

As much as he hated Harper forcing this fellowship competition on him, he could see the reasoning and the potential upside of finding someone who believed in the team’s purpose as much as he did.

Forgetting the time, he opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but the shrill sound of a pager interrupted his thoughts. Her white coat was draped over the back of the chair, and a green screen briefly lit up in the pocket.

“Is that mine or yours?” she asked.

He sighed. “Yours. We’re done anyway.”

A few minutes later, he pressed the button and watched her slowly slide out of the machine. An awkward silence passed between them as his blue eyes met hers, the green contemplative and shimmering under the fluorescent lights.

He looked away after helping her off the table, giving her privacy as she adjusted the flimsy hospital gown before pulling on her white coat and reaching for her clothes on the corner table.

“I’ll let you finish getting dressed.”

Ethan started to walk away, but the words left unsaid had him turning to watch her over his shoulder.

“Cassie, I…” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, and her wary expression had him second-guessing everything. In the end, he just shrugged.

“Thanks for your help, Valentine.” He smiled briefly but sincerely. “For today and last week.”

Cassie nodded, clutching the bundle of clothes against her. “You’re welcome, Dr. Ramsey.”

He stared at her for another moment, and then, because there was nothing more to say, he marched off, closing the door silently behind him.

Once outside, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and reaching for the self-control he valued so much. Breathing slowly, he centered himself and took one step, then another, until he was far enough away from the fMRI suite to feel like himself again.

He had more important matters to concern himself with. Naveen had agreed to let Ethan run some tests. It had been a hard-won battle, and what came next required his complete focus.

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