Destined Strangers

Chapter 4

"Synchronicity is an ever-present reality for those who have eyes to see."
__ Carl Jung

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The sound of Sania's shoes tapping steadily on the floor fills the hallway as she moves briskly from one patient room to the next. It's been another long shift, and the weight of responsibility begins to settle on her shoulders. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sterile glow, and the quiet hum of machines provides a constant backdrop.

"Do you have the vitals for Bed 3?"

Sania asks, her voice even as she turns toward Adam. She observes him briefly. He joined their department only a week ago. Not one to stand out with loud confidence, Adam's quiet determination is noticeable. In some ways, he reminds her of her earlier days-anxious yet motivated by a strong sense of purpose.

"Yes," Adam replies, straightening his posture.

"His blood pressure is 130/85, heart rate is 76 bpm, and temperature is 98.6°F," he reports, his tone professional and precise, as if the numbers are second nature to him.

"Hmm" She responds, already mentally moving on to the next task. Over the years, she has developed the ability to compartmentalize. As she heads toward the next patient, Adam follows, his footsteps light but steady.

IT IS lATE in the evening when Sania leaves the hospital. The sky, a muted gray, suggests rain, though it doesn't quite deliver. The air carries the faint scent of wet pavement, and a cool breeze sweeps through the city streets, cutting through her thin coat and sending a chill through her body. She tightens her muffler around her neck, her fingers stiff from the cold.

Today, she has made a conscious decision. Rather than driving home as she usually does, she opts to walk. She tells herself the weather is ideal for a stroll, the cool breeze offering a refreshing contrast to the day spent indoors.

As she walks, the tension in her shoulders begins to ease.The evening air, feels refreshing against her skin, and she takes a deep breath.

Just as she starts to relax, her attention is drawn to a figure sitting outside a cafe. There, hunched over a laptop, is a man she hasn't seen in some time. His face is partially hidden by his dark hair, which falls casually over his forehead. He is focused on the screen in front of him, unaware of anything around him. His fingers move steadily over the keyboard, and his brow is furrowed in concentration.

Sania stands still for a moment, a sense of familiarity washing over her. She recognizes him, though she doesn't know him well enough to approach without hesitation. He feels distant, yet somehow familiar, perhaps due to his connection with the Noor family or something else she can't quite place.

The cool breeze brushes against her cheeks as she stands there, uncertain whether to approach or simply continue on her way. The thought of an awkward encounter lingers in her mind, yet she can't ignore the sense that this moment isn't entirely by chance.

Before she can decide, he looks up from his screen and their eyes meet. For a brief moment, their gazes lock. His eyes, a warm shade of brown, hold hers with a quiet intensity.

She hesitates, unsure of how to proceed. Should she wave or speak? She feels torn between walking away and the pull of curiosity that keeps her rooted to the spot.

Then, as quickly as the moment arrived, it passes. His expression softens, the intensity in his gaze fading. Sania finds herself exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.