Disgrace

Chapter 15: Mother Superior

Katrina

"Fück, ginawa ko rin 'yan nung med student ako. Except mine was a birth control pill, and I was sleeping with my professor—who is now my husband."

I nearly spat out my coffee.

I looked up just as Vlanca strolled into the break room, her sharp green eyes immediately locking onto the Plan B packet sitting beside my untouched breakfast.
Great. Just fücking great.

After dealing with the near-disaster that Dr. Hera almost caused, I had come straight here, hoping for a peaceful cup of coffee before a next case. Instead, I got Vlanca and her uncanny ability to sniff out drama before I could even blink.

Her smirk was instant.

The physician's lounge was its usual sterile, fluorescent-lit chaos—the faint hum of the coffee machine, the scent of burnt toast, the muted voices of nurses and doctors discussing cases beyond the glass doors. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, cutting through the white tiled floor in golden streaks.
Meanwhile, I sat there in my slightly wrinkled navy blue scrubs, my white coat draped over the chair, my hair tucked messily into a scrub cap. My coffee sat untouched beside me, steam curling from the rim—forgotten the second Vlanca walked in and zeroed in on the evidence.

I turned red. "U-Uh... this is not a Plan B?" I muttered, popping the pill into my mouth and washing it down with coffee like it was nothing. "It's for a headache." I quickly slid the empty packet into my coat pocket.

Technically, it's true. I'm preventing a major fücking headache—because can you imagine me, waddling around the ER, pregnant with my nephew's twenty-one-year-old best friend's baby? Yeah. Picture that. Me, doing rounds with a belly out to here, Mason looking way too smug every time someone asks who the father is. No. Absolutely not. I'd rather intubate myself.

And honestly? That's not even the worst part.

My sister would never forgive me.

Like, actually never. She already side-eyes half the decisions I make, but this? This wouldn't just be side-eye material—this would be full-fledged what-the-actual-fück-is-wrong-with-you territory.

Our relationship is fragile enough as it is—I don't need to nuke it into oblivion with the "Guess what, I'm having a baby with a college frat boy" bomb.
And Theo? Jesus. Theo. My nephew. My dearest. He would never look at me the same way again. He's been through enough shit already—he doesn't need this added to the list.

Vlanca raised a brow, unimpressed. "Sure. You're choosing to lie to a doctor about contraceptives? Okay."

"Vlanca..." I groaned.

But she was already dropping into the seat across from me, her long brown hair loose on her shoulders, her deep forest green scrubs crisp and annoyingly well-fitted—the standard for general surgery. She looked way too well-rested for someone who probably just stepped out of an overnight case.

"Nope. Absolutely not. This is the most interesting thing you've done in years."

I sighed. "Vlanca—"

"So... who finally took down the undefeated, untouched, Mother Superior of the ER?"

I blinked. "Mother Superior? I'm not a nun."

"Yeah, you are. Ikaw 'yung tipong kasal sa trabaho. No men. No distractions. No life outside of work—until now." She nodded toward the pill. "So? Spill. Sino? Attending? Resident? A cocky surgeon with a god complex? Oh my god—was it Dr. Jack Smith?"

I choked so hard I nearly died.

Tangina. Jack Smith.

I forgot he was flying into the island tonight. And I just spent all night getting wrecked by a twenty-one-year-old frat boy.