Page 22 of The Run Back Home

Alarms beep, a voice bellows over the loudspeaker paging Doctor Sanchez, and the hum of metal wheels rolling down the hallway intermingle into a perfect symphony.

The hospital is where I thrive.

I think it's the chaos of it all, if I'm honest. I've been bred my whole life to survive in a world—in a house—where ten things are going on at once and I still have to be productive.

Not to mention the fact that blood and needles and broken bones don't bother me at all. It's hard to scare me away when I grew up surrounded by siblings who are injury-prone athletes and thriving tattoo artists.

There are things that get to me, of course—the child sick with cancer or the older gentleman with dementia who nobody ever seems to visit. But becoming a nurse has been the best thing I've ever done. And if being in different hospitals has taught me anything, it's that I'm exactly where I'm meant to be with gloves on my hands and a stethoscope around my neck.

"Lenora." I hear my name being sung before I even see Dylan lean her hip against the nurses' station. "How's your first day?"

I don't even bother hiding my excitement—and relief—as I squeal and wrap her in my arms. "Better now," I say, squeezing her tight. "I missed you."

Dylan sways us back and forth before finally letting go. "I missed you too," she says. "When I got your text about being transferred here, I screamed so loud the charge nurse came running."

I laugh, shaking my head. Staring at the chart in my hand, I exhale a deep breath. "Yeah," I say, trying to stop my face from giving me away completely. "I think I reacted the same way."

Dylan shifts so her back is pressed against the counter, searching my expression like she's trying to decipher a complicated chart. "Something tells me we didn't yell for the same reasons."

"Maybe not exactly." I offer her a smile.

Her eyes wander the floor as she clicks her tongue suspiciously.

"Dyl…" I drag out.

She purses her lips and looks at me innocently. "Yeah, Len?"

I turn toward her and cross my arms. "Did you have something to do with this?"

She holds my gaze for an extra second before dropping her shoulders. "Okay, fine. When I heard Ingrid was going out on maternity leave toward the end of your placement at St. David's, I may or may not have tossed your name into the ring."

"And by tossed my name into the ring, you mean…"

She exhales dramatically. "Okay, I gave our manager Kent's personal cell."

My mouth drops open. "How in the—"

"Don't question me," she interrupts. "You know my abilities."

I shake my head, laughing. "I definitely do."

She smiles, and I nudge her shoulder. "Well, I'm glad to be back with you, that's for sure."

She scrunches her nose. "You better be. It's been too long since we tore up the Ashford ER together."

"It really has. Remember that guy who tried to Venmo us for morphine?"

Her face lights up. "Oh my God, BlueBallz69?"

"You remember his username?"

Dylan pauses and stares at me deadpan. "How do you not?"

We both crack up, drawing the attention of a few doctors and other nurses milling around. After a few moments of attempting to stifle our laughter, it finally starts to fade.

"Listen," Dylan starts once silence settles between us. "I know you're probably not too happy to be back this way, but Golden City isn't that close to Mage, is it?"

I think back to yesterday—the rollercoaster of emotions I felt being home again. I loved seeing my family—laughing with my siblings, hugging my parents, eating good food. But it was hard, too.