SHADOWS OF DECEIT

Chapter 21

The week had unfolded like a gift Joshua hadn't dared to hope for: three days of calm, uninterrupted by tangled emotions or fleeting shadows from the past. 

The city outside was relentless, always pulsing with life, but here, in the familiar rhythm of the hospital, Joshua found a stillness that settled deep in his bones. 

It almost felt like L.A.—back when the most he had to worry about was a tricky surgery or the endless paperwork piling on his desk. 

The days had been a blur of white lights, antiseptic scents, and the low hum of beeping monitors. He welcomed it all, grateful for the simplicity of a routine unmarked by secrets or desire.

The hospital's fluorescent lights bathed everything in a sterile glow as Joshua moved through the emergency ward on his last round of the night shift. 

The comfort of scrubs, with their soft, loose fit, made his body feel lighter. He navigated the maze of gurneys, doctors, and nurses, nodding politely at colleagues, his practiced smile in place. 

It was in these moments, doing what he did best—patching people up and making sense of chaos—that Joshua felt whole.

He glanced at the clock mounted above the double doors of the ward: 2:45 a.m. It was a time when the city outside rested on the edge of sleep, and the world within the hospital walls hummed with subdued urgency. 

He paused for a moment, tapping his fingers against his clipboard before deciding to make a quick detour to the cafeteria.

The chill of the air-conditioned hallway seeped through his scrubs, making him shiver slightly as he walked. 

The hum of the vending machines and the clatter of coffee cups greeted him as he stepped into the cafeteria, the late-night crowd consisting mainly of exhausted interns nursing their third or fourth cup of caffeine. 

The hiss of the espresso machine became a familiar comfort as Joshua placed an order for two iced Americanos, the bitter bite of the drink something he'd come to crave in moments of fatigue. 

The barista, eyes heavy with the same weariness that lined Joshua's own, slid the drinks across the counter with a tired smile.

"Thanks," Joshua said, offering a nod before making his way back to the office. He cradled the drinks carefully, the cold condensation dripping down the sides of the plastic cups and dampening his skin. 

The muted sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, and for a fleeting moment, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over him. He shook it off, pushing the thought aside as he reached the door to his office.

Inside, Eunchae sat hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as she muttered notes to herself. The young resident looked up when the door opened, a smile breaking her otherwise focused expression. 

Her eyes, wide and dark with exhaustion, brightened at the sight of the drinks.

"Dr. Hong! Thank you so much," she said, sitting up straighter as Joshua set one of the iced coffees in front of her.

"Don't mention it," Joshua replied, settling into the chair across from her. He took a long sip, the sharp bitterness waking up the parts of him that were starting to droop with fatigue. 

He glanced down at the thick stack of papers Eunchae had placed in front of him—a draft of her thesis, filled with annotations and sticky notes in fluorescent shades. 

Joshua reached for it, flipping through the pages with the care of someone who knew the weight of each sentence.

"You're making good progress," he said, skimming the introduction and nodding approvingly. The words, medical jargon woven expertly into structured thought, reminded him of his own residency days—late nights that bled into early mornings, driven by the same relentless hunger for knowledge.