Chapter 2

Della's POV

"Sit here for a bit and calm your nerves," Sutton said, pressing me into a chair in the breakroom. His long fingers massaged my shoulders. "I've got to do rounds. Be good, and don't put so much pressure on yourself."

He leaned down, kissed my forehead, and quickly walked out.

I stood up and walked over to the coffee machine on the counter, my fingertips still slightly stiff. I grabbed a paper cup and pressed the button.

The machine let out a dull hum, but not a single drop of coffee came out. Just as I leaned in to check the screen, the high-pressure steam valve on the side blew apart with a piercing shriek!

A jet of boiling, pressurized water and white steam blasted out, sweeping directly across the back of my right hand.

I violently jerked back, slamming into the counter. A blinding red blister instantly flared up on my skin, the searing agony shooting straight to my brain.

The coffee machine's screen flickered twice and went pitch black.

Clutching my burning hand, I marched straight to the Pyxis automated dispensing cabinet in the hallway. Bed 7 needed a routine round of antibiotics—fresh doctor's orders. Nothing life-threatening. Just a basic task.

Nurse Lorne was standing at the cabinet.

"Excuse me. I need to pull some meds," I said coldly.

Lorne turned his head, sweeping a contemptuous gaze up and down my body. Slowly and deliberately, he punched his ID into the touchscreen and pressed his thumb to the scanner.

A green light flared. The drawer smoothly clicked open. He pulled two vials, casually bumped my shoulder with his, and sneered, "See how it's done, community college girl? Don't act like a hillbilly who can't even pull a drawer open."

I ignored his bait. I stepped up, rapidly punched in my ID, and pressed my fingerprint.

"BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—!"

A piercing, top-tier red alarm erupted, shattering the quiet of the ward like an air raid siren!

Pop-ups flashed violently across the screen: [ACCESS DENIED! FINGERPRINT MISMATCH! ILLEGAL ENTRY LOCKDOWN!]

I scowled, yanked out an alcohol prep pad, furiously wiped the scanner, and pressed my finger down again.

The pitch of the alarm spiked. The entire Pyxis machine went into a hard-lock lockdown, the main screen transforming into a blood-red warning sign.

The crushing helplessness of my past life washed over me like a tidal wave.

"Enough!"

I clenched my fist, pulled back my unburned left arm, and slammed it furiously into the heavy metal door! I knew exactly how hard to hit without breaking a bone.

The violent metallic echo roared down the hallway. I glared dead at the screen, gritting my teeth as I growled, "You piece of junk! Unlock my clearance!"

The deafening alarm and the sound of my violent impact instantly triggered the nursing station.

"Jesus! Has she lost her mind?"

"She's gotta be on something, right? First she claims a pain pump is haunted, now she's smashing the Pyxis!"

"Dr. Sutton is such a sweetheart. How did he end up marrying this psycho? Is this what we get for nepotism? She's a ticking time bomb."

A group of residents and nurses closed in, their eyes filled with naked disgust. They whispered loudly among themselves, using the ugliest words to evaluate my mental state.

"What is going on here?! Are we abandoning rounds?!"

An oppressive voice cleaved through the crowd. Coralie marched forward in her heels, aggressively pushing people aside. Behind her trailed an equally furious pharmacist, Maribel.

Coralie stopped right in front of me, her eyes cutting like knives. "Della Whitlock. Are you damaging company property, or just throwing another one of your useless tantrums? This is a hospital, not a back alley for you to run wild!"

"Coralie, this machine has been tampered with." I kept my spine straight, holding her gaze. "I can't log in! Even the coffee maker in the breakroom sprayed boiling water at me!"

Coralie let out a mocking scoff. She looked at me like I was suffering from clinical delusions.

She turned to Maribel, jutted her chin toward the machine, and then—in front of the entire floor—lightly pressed her index finger against the exact same scanner.

The alarm vanished instantly.

The metal door that had just locked me out completely sprung open like an obedient dog.

The screen glowed brightly: Operating Status: Perfect.

A louder, more unrestrained wave of laughter erupted down the hall.

"Is the machine broke, or is her brain?" Lorne whistled from the back of the crowd.

Coralie slammed the drawer shut, spun around, and stepped directly into my space. Her towering frame almost completely shadowed me. Her perfectly painted red lips spit out a cold, venomous verdict:

"I just checked it myself, and this Pyxis is perfectly fine! The only thing wrong here is the useless idiot who can't even scan a fingerprint!"

I unclenched my jaw, refusing to retreat a single inch, letting her spit fly against my safety goggles.

"It's your first day on the job, and you're out here throwing a fit, screaming like a lunatic, damaging equipment, and disrupting emergency protocols!" She thrust a stiff finger into my collarbone, punctuating every single word so the whole floor could hear—

"Listen to me very clearly, Della. If I catch you pulling another crazy stunt like this, you can pack your bags and get the hell back to your hometown tomorrow! Don't think just because you're Sutton's wife that you can throw your weight around here!"