The breakroom of the Sterling-Khan Clinic was empty. Julian Sterling sat alone at a wobbly table, his phone glowing in the dim light. On the screen was the photo he had taken the night before: Maya’s private ledger, exposing the clinic’s desperate financial straits.
A text message from Dante Ricci sat at the top of his notifications: *Send it and get your life back. The white coat is waiting.*
Julian stared at the send button. It was so easy. One tap, and he wouldn’t be a janitor anymore. He would be Dr. Sterling again. He could stop scrubbing toilets and start saving lives.
The door opened. Maya walked in, looking exhausted, carrying a box of supplies. She stopped when she saw him.
“The floors look good, Julian,” she said, offering him a tired, genuine smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
She walked past him to the coffee machine. Julian felt the shame burn through his chest like acid. She trusted him with her floors, and he was about to sell her roof.
His thumb hovered over the screen. Then, with a shaking hand, he locked the phone and shoved it into his pocket. He couldn’t do it. Not today.