1 “Grace, I’ll have to trouble you again this time.” Monica Shaw’s voice drifted over, casual and entitled. I closed the handoff log in my hands and turned to meet her eyes. “What do you mean?” “I got into next week’s marathon. I talked it over with Dr. Harding, and we both think it’s best if you stay.” She smiled as she flattered me. “You’re the best nurse in our department. If you’re here, I feel much more at ease.” There were seven or eight people at the nurses’ station. Not one of them said a word. Five years. I had almost never adjusted shifts for time off. The hospital was already too busy to breathe. To support Monica’s dream, nearly every nurse at our station had covered shifts for her. I had covered the most. This year, my fiancé insisted I take a few days off no matter what so we could shoot our wedding photos. For those three days, I had worked ahead for a whole month, bought milk tea for the entire department to swap shifts, and even gotten Dr. Harding’s signature. But just as I was about to leave, Monica came over with an announcement, telling me to stay and cover for her. “I can’t cover it.” I pushed the handoff book aside. My volume didn’t change, but every word was clear. Monica froze. She clearly hadn’t expected the department’s easiest pushover to suddenly grow a spine. “Monica, can you skip this marathon?” I tried to keep my tone negotiable. “My wedding shoot already has a five-thousand-dollar deposit. We booked it half a year ago. My fiancé even pushed back a project for these few days. The photographer’s schedule is nearly impossible to adjust.” Monica tossed the IV labels in her hand onto the desk. “Grace, honestly, you have no sense of commitment.” She turned around, her face impatient. “The marathon was set a year ago. The sponsors have already printed my jersey. You suddenly insist on taking wedding photos now? Aren’t you deliberately making things hard for me?” Making things hard for her? I was so angry I almost laughed. In five years, I had gone from intern to backbone of the department. The most difficult patients, the pickiest doctors, in the end they all came to me. Most of the thank-you banners hanging on the nurses’ station wall had my name written on them. Over eighteen hundred days, I had never taken a full holiday. And Monica? She entered the hospital the same year as I did, but she still often missed veins when starting an IV. Yet thanks to running marathons everywhere, she had built herself a sunny-goddess image. For two years straight, the Excellent Nurse award had gone to her. Paula, the head nurse, saw I was about to speak again and hurriedly tugged me aside. “Grace, come out with me.” “Grace, how about this?” Paula tried to coax me. “You cover one day for her, and I’ll cover another. We’re colleagues. Don’t make things ugly.” Looking at Paula, I felt fire trapped in my chest. “Paula, you know better than anyone. For this break, I practically lived in the department last month.” “And all the messes Monica caused lately, wasn’t I the one cleaning them up? Bathing patients, turning them, calming families.” Paula sounded like she was defending herself. “I had already arranged your shift. But Dr. Harding personally called. He said the nurses’ station should overcome the difficulty internally.” All my hard work meant nothing in front of Monica’s so-called honor. I looked at her and asked one last time, my face cold, “Why me again?” Paula said, “It’s already at this point. Don’t make it unpleasant.” “I asked around. You’re not married yet, and your skills are solid. Help me this once. I’ll definitely make it up to you later.” Because I wasn’t married, my time wasn’t worth anything. Because I was good at my job, I had to be the one who endured. I didn’t argue with Paula anymore. I picked up the schedule and turned toward Dr. Harding’s office. Just as I reached his door, my phone vibrated twice in my pocket. I stopped outside and opened the screen. In the department group chat, Monica had sent a message. Marathon schedule confirmed. Thank you, Nurse Grace Bennett, for putting the bigger picture first. I’ll bring another medal back for everyone! Underneath was a photo of her holding last year’s trophy beside Dr. Harding. One of the pharmacy nurses privately messaged me. Grace, just endure it. She’s tight with the director. No need to clash with them. I put my phone away, knocked, and walked in. The right wall of Dr. Harding’s office was covered with Monica’s “achievements” from the past few years. “Grace, what brings you here?” Dr. Harding looked up. He was still holding the marathon promotional brief. I walked over and spread five years of attendance records across his desk. He glanced at them but didn’t touch them. “Grace, you’re usually sensible. Why are you being so stubborn today?” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re the pillar of the department. Everyone recognizes your ability. Just suffer a little this once.” “Dr. Harding, my wedding shoot deposit is five thousand dollars. The photographer can’t reschedule.” Dr. Harding gave a short laugh, then spoke as if lecturing a child. “Young people today are so dramatic. In our day, one photo was enough to get married. Call your boyfriend over. I’ll talk to him.” I looked at him. That face full of the word sacrifice made me want to vomit. “Dr. Harding, in these five years, I’ve covered Monica’s shifts twenty-seven times.” I pointed at the attendance sheet. “Nights, holidays, weekends. All me. More than half of the marathons she’s run were possible because I was covering her shifts. But this time, I really can’t.” “Why can’t you? Young people should prioritize the bigger picture.” Dr. Harding cut me off. “I’ll be honest with you. This shift change was my decision.” “After Monica came to me, I first considered Nurse Young, but she’s too inexperienced and careless. Professor Warren doesn’t like her.” “Then I thought about Paula, but you know she’s the head nurse. Her overtime pay is three times yours. The department budget is tight right now. We can’t move the funds around.” “Paula will retire in a couple of years. You’re skilled. Work a little more. Look further ahead. Don’t fixate on such a small thing.” “What?” I stared at him in disbelief. So because I was cheaper, because I was obedient, I deserved to be bullied. And he dared say it straight to my face. “If we’re a hospital and the budget is tight, why are we reimbursing Monica’s travel expenses?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Monica is competing to bring honor to our hospital. If you throw a tantrum at a time like this, aren’t you embarrassing us? You don’t even have that much awareness?” “Dr. Harding, if Monica is going to run the marathon, shouldn’t the online schedule be changed officially? You’re just announcing it in the group chat?” Dr. Harding’s smile vanished. He set his thermos heavily on the desk. “You’ve reminded me. I’ll handle the procedural issue and make sure there are no loopholes.” “I’ll have Paula redo the schedule. You don’t need to worry.” He stood, walked around the desk, and patted my shoulder. “I’ll talk to Monica about the later arrangements when I have time. Go back to work. The ward can’t run without you.” “The hospital will consider the schedule as a whole. I hope you cooperate.” Dr. Harding picked up the attendance sheet and ushered me out of his office. I stopped in the hallway, my chest tight with anger. “Hello, Monica.” Dr. Harding’s voice floated through the door. “She came to make a fuss just now. It’s fine. Run with peace of mind. Don’t worry about the schedule. I’ll have Paula arrange it.” After a brief pause, he laughed. “What’s one little nurse? They’re everywhere. Do I not know her family situation? What can she do?” Mortgage to pay. Elderly family members to treat. That was their leverage over me. I looked down at the schedule in my hand. So in their eyes, I was that cheap. When Monica saw me coming back down the hallway, she smiled and leaned close. “Grace, Dr. Harding told me everything. Thank you for putting the bigger picture first. I’ll buy you milk tea when I’m back.” I stopped and looked at her. At her well-maintained face. The smile on Monica’s face stalled. She instinctively shrank back. I said nothing. I pulled out my chair and sat down. Then I opened my phone and tapped into the pinned chat. Honey, the wedding shoot might have to be postponed. I’m sorry. At the top of the chat box, it kept showing that he was typing. It lasted two full minutes. Finally, two words appeared on the screen. It’s okay. I stared at those two words. In the reflection of the computer monitor, tears fell without warning onto the back of my hand. Paula pushed the door open and beckoned me into the duty room. She sighed first. “My mother-in-law was admitted last night too, and my younger one still has tutoring.” Paula rubbed her temples. “Grace, I really can’t manage the schedule right now. Dr. Harding already gave the order. Just treat it as helping me once. Just this once.” “Why am I always the one who has to be wronged?” The duty room went silent. Paula lowered her head and looked at the tips of her shoes. She didn’t answer. I stood and walked out. “I’ll take that as a yes, okay?” Paula called behind me. I didn’t stop. As soon as I returned to the nurses’ station, Paula posted the new electronic schedule in the department group chat. Dr. Harding followed with a notice, then specifically tagged me. Grace Bennett, reply when received. Everyone should learn from Monica Shaw’s fighting spirit in bringing honor to the department. Monica replied immediately with “Received,” followed by three fist-pump emojis. Then a line of “Received” responses filled the group chat. That parade of compliance felt like a string of slaps landing on my face. Monica passed the nurses’ station and tapped the counter with her fingers. “Oh, haven’t checked your phone yet? Dr. Harding specifically tagged you. Hurry and reply. Don’t keep him waiting.” I ignored her and continued sorting the orders in my hands. When Dr. Harding passed by on rounds, he didn’t look at the chart. Instead, he reached out and pressed his hand on my shoulder. “Grace, work hard. For the year-end excellence award, I’ll prioritize you. That’s your reward. Understand?” His eyes swept over my still-lit phone screen. His tone cooled. “Reply to the group message. Don’t make hospital leadership think our department lacks unity. This is not only scheduling. It’s political awareness.” I looked up at him. He didn’t wait for my answer. He had already led a group of interns down the corridor. I took my phone to the restroom stall and called the photography studio. They couldn’t change the date. Postponing would count as breach of contract. The penalty was thirty-eight hundred dollars. Their voice was polite and businesslike. “All right.” I hung up. Thirty-eight hundred. More than half a month’s salary. Gone. After work, I went to the parking lot. Aaron was leaning against the car door waiting for me. He stared at my eyes for two seconds. “Why were you crying?” He straightened and started toward the outpatient building. “I’m going to find that marathon champion.” I grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to endure this,” Aaron turned back. “Quit and come home. I’ll support you.” I held onto him and said, “I’m not enduring it. I’m waiting.” Late that night, I sat in front of my computer and opened my phone album. One by one, I imported screenshots of Monica’s shift swaps from the past five years into the computer and began building a timeline. “Grace, what scheme are you cooking up instead of sleeping?” Professor Warren poked his head over to look at the screen. The old man was famously difficult. When his temper flared, he dared scold even the hospital president. But he was relatively polite to me. Because my skills were solid, and I never dropped the ball. “Just organizing some materials, Professor.” “The department is quiet now. Go nap for a while.” The old man shook his head and left. I looked at the growing list in the document and pressed Save. The weekend nurses’ station was chaos. Monica had dumped a pile of unfinished work and run off. The families of Beds 104 and 107 had already slammed the desk three times. I could only check the orders one by one. Every time I finished something, I entered it into the system and took a photo of the work record with my phone. During the brief gap when I shoveled down food, Nurse Liu pushed her phone toward me. On the screen, Monica flashed peace signs at the camera. “Even with certain colleagues failing to understand me, I still stood at the starting line.” “Life is not only the grind in front of us. It is also marathons and distant horizons.” Comments rolled past. Queen energy. So inspiring. I swallowed cold takeout and pushed Nurse Liu’s phone back. Monica won first place in the women’s division of the Harbor City Marathon. The local TV interview video was forwarded in the department group chat eight hundred times. On camera, she held up the medal with reddened eyes and said the medal belonged to herself for insisting on her dream, and she thanked the hospital for its tolerance. Although certain colleagues did not support her, she thanked the leadership for prioritizing the bigger picture. Dr. Harding stood in the middle of the nurses’ station, glowing with pride. “Our department needs exactly this kind of spirit, striving to bring honor to the hospital.” His gaze swept over the top of my head. “Don’t always stare at your own tiny patch of land. That’s petty.” Morning meeting ended. Monica came over with two Starbucks cups and placed one on my desk. “Grace, my legs are so sore I can barely get downstairs.” She rubbed her calves. “I’ll have to trouble you to cover for me for the next two days too. Once I recover, I’ll treat you to a big meal.” The day after tomorrow was the final deadline for changing the wedding shoot. I took the coffee but didn’t respond. Monica took that as compromise. “Oh, I know you’ve worked hard. I’ll remember this favor personally.” She patted my shoulder and turned toward the locker room. On the computer screen, Wednesday’s schedule was clean and neat. Day nurse: Monica Shaw. Night nurse: Monica Shaw. Doctor on duty: Professor Warren Price. The hospital president’s mentor. The strictest academic authority in the hospital. Five minutes before my shift ended, I opened the electronic handoff system and pulled up the file for Bed 105. Margaret Hargrove. Pulmonary infection. The most important line: penicillin allergy. Mrs. Hargrove happened to be Dr. Harding’s mother-in-law. She had been transferred into our department yesterday. I typed the final line into the handoff record. Bed 105 patient’s recent medication plan must be strictly reviewed. Responsible nurse: Monica Shaw. Please ensure proper handoff. Click. Upload. The system light turned green. The timestamp was generated and locked automatically. This record synchronized across the entire network. When I walked out of the outpatient building, Aaron’s car was parked by the road. There were two cups of milk tea on the passenger seat. “Let’s go.” Aaron hit the gas. “The photographer said the outdoor location is empty today. We can shoot extra sets.” I stuck in the straw and took a big sip. Behind me, the nurses’ station sign glowed. I had left behind a handoff record. And on it, the responsible nurse was Monica Shaw.
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