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Richard continued, “Right now, she is on her 15-minute break — a break she’s more than earned. You may not understand how much is asked of the nurses here, but disrespecting them, especially in this way, is something I will not tolerate. You owe her respect.
And an apology.”
No one was pretending not to listen anymore. A couple of interns sitting near the vending machine looked up in surprise. A cafeteria staff member behind the sandwich counter had paused in mid-motion, her gloved hands still holding a tray.
The woman opened her mouth like she was about to defend herself, but then stopped.
Her face had lost all its color. Her husband avoided everyone’s gaze.
“Come on,” he muttered, tugging at her sleeve. “Let’s just go.”
She followed, red-faced, silent now.
The sharp click of her heels sounded more like a retreat than a statement this time. They walked out without another word.
Dr. Richard turned to me then.
His expression softened just slightly. He didn’t smile, but his eyes told me everything.
My throat felt tight, but I managed a nod.
“Thank you, sir,” I whispered.
He gave me one more look.
It wasn’t pitying or dramatic, just respectful. Then he turned and walked out, his presence still lingering in the air like calm after a storm.
I sat down slowly, my legs still shaking beneath me. My sandwich was half-eaten and a little soggy by then, but I didn’t care.
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