Chapter 3

When I walk toward the break room, I don’t feel my feet touching the floor. It feels unreal, like I’m floating outside my body. The self-doubt, the embarrassment, the anger, the helplessness, it all crashes together until my vision blurs. I feel powerless, like I have no control over this situation. I’m an employee with no voice. Either I lose this job, the one I got after months of searching, or I stay quiet and let him crush me with his behaviour. I’m not in a position financially to give up this job. Knowing I can’t do anything about it makes the shame turn inward. I hate myself for it.

When I reach the break room, Kim is still there. I don’t look at her. I rush past and head straight for the washroom, locking the door behind me. I turn on the tap, slide down to the floor, and cry uncontrollably, my voice breaking as I try to keep the sound in.

After a few minutes, there’s a gentle knock. I manage to say, “Yes,” my voice unsteady.

“Is everything okay?” Kim asks.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Okay… I was just checking,” she says softly.

I don’t say anything else. Her steps move away, and the tears come back instantly. Once the worst of it spills out, I listen carefully. I don’t hear any voices outside, so I assume Kim’s gone. I wash my face, dry it, and step out.

Kim is still there. As I try to walk past her, acting as if nothing happened, she calls my name. “Amelia.”

I stop.

“Come sit with me,” she says softly.

I don’t feel like going over to her. If she asks anything, I know I’ll break down, and I don’t want that. I stand there for a moment, unsure what to do, then I give in and sit beside her anyway. She studies my face for a moment, then asks, “What happened?”

I swallow the anger burning in my chest. She’s the one who sent me to that jerk. She put me in front of that asshole who made me feel small, who stripped me down to nothing. And now she has the nerve to ask what happened.

“Nothing,” I shrug.

“Your face says otherwise. You were crying,” she says, gesturing toward me.

I stay quiet for a moment. Then my eyes fill before I can stop them.

“It’s okay,” she says, sliding a box of tissues toward me. “Tell me what happened.” Her arm grazes mine on the table between us.

Through broken sobs, I tell her everything.

She stays silent for a long moment after I finish.

Then she says, regret in her voice, “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have sent you to him. When I told you he was strict, I didn’t mean this. He’s never treated new staff like this. He always gave them time to learn. Only after repeated issues would he step in and suggest moving them to another floor. He’s never behaved this way on someone’s first day.”

I don’t believe it. There’s no way I was singled out for no reason. This isn’t new behaviour. It’s who he is. Maybe she doesn’t know. Maybe no one ever told her. Maybe no one dared to.

There’s a knock on the break room door. The door opens, and someone walks in, stopping behind me. Kim and I are sitting face-to-face, and my back is to the door, so I can’t see who it is. I don’t turn around. I don’t want them to see my swollen eyes.

“Hey.” The voice comes from behind me, directed at Kim.

My skin crawls. I know that voice. It’s Dr. Keller.

He leans forward and places a tiffin box and a cup of coffee in front of Kim. “Vegetables, fruit, and your favourite drink,” he says. “You need to stay strong.”

“That’s not necessary,” she says, sliding the box back. “I already had breakfast.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “An extra won’t hurt.”

“This is probably your breakfast,” Kim says, pointing to the tiffin box.

“Don’t worry. I’ll grab something from the canteen,” he assures her.

There’s a silence. Then he says, “I think you should go home and get some rest.”

She laughs. “Today? When we’re this short? My girls are running nonstop. You don’t understand how bad it feels to sit here when they’re stretched like this.” She gestures toward the door.

“You know we’ll survive a day without you, even if it’s hard. You need to put yourself first,” he says.

She laughs again. “Interesting advice, coming from you.”

Silence settles between them again.

“Alright, I’ll head out,” he says, turning away.

“Got a minute?” Kim asks.

He stops. “What?”

“Sit down, Daniel,” she says.

“I need to grab a coffee before heading to the OR. You should hurry,” he replies, sitting beside me anyway.

She looks at him. “Do you have an issue with Amelia?”

He shrugs, his eyes moving towards me. “No. Why? Does she have an issue with me?” he asks, sounding baffled and innocent.

“She’s new,” Kim says. “She doesn’t have much experience, but she has a strong desire to learn. The way you treated her really upset her.”

I feel his gaze settle on me again. I keep my head down, my eyes fixed on the floor.

“She’s incompetent,” he says suddenly, chuckling like it’s nothing.

Kim stiffens. “How can you say that? From assisting you with one dressing, you decided her education meant nothing? How can you call her incompetent?”

“I don’t need much time to judge someone’s ability. I can tell immediately.”

“Listen,” Kim says firmly. “The way you treated her isn’t acceptable. I don’t want my staff feeling threatened on their first day.”

He pauses, smiling, resting his chin on his folded hands like he’s amused. “One thing I’ll admit,” he says. “I thought she had poor communication skills because she couldn’t answer properly. Seems I was wrong. Looks like she explained everything to you, even things that didn’t happen, for you to get this worked up.”

“She didn’t volunteer anything,” Kim replies calmly. “I saw it on her face and insisted she tell me. For your reference, her communication skills are solid. I’ve seen that myself.”

“Well,” he says, standing, “we don’t agree. That happens.”

“Yes, it does,” Kim says, her voice turning very serious. “But I need one thing from you.”

He sounds surprised. “What?”

“Be kind to her. Make her feel welcome. Don’t upset her again.”

He lets out a short, sarcastic laugh. “That’s not fully in my control. Tell your new friend to toughen up and stop gossiping. She should put her attention where it belongs… on patients.”

Then he walks away, not waiting for a reply.