Friday morning, Miguel arrived at the lab.
He greeted Jill and Sally.
“Alex is taking the day off. He’s not feeling well.”
“That’s rare,” Jill said with concern. “Is he okay?”
Miguel shrugged. “I think so… but he’s been acting a little strange lately.”
Sally sighed. “It’s the last day of the interns’ first rotation. No wonder they don’t want to come back. The manager ignores them, and Alex should really say something.”
Miguel raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Wow, Sally. Never thought I’d hear that from you.”
“Anyway, he’s sick today,” Jill cut in gently. “Let’s just be considerate.”
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Meanwhile, Alex was still in bed.
He couldn’t move.
The image of her—the last moment he saw her—kept replaying in his mind.
One memory led to another: her face, her smile, her eyes, her soft cheeks, her small, beautiful hands.
It all felt unbearably real.
His chest ached. He couldn’t stop crying.
“If it was just a dream, why does it hurt so much? Why didn’t he die with her? How could he live without her?”
He didn’t even know who he was asking.
After a while, he began to calm down.
“It was just a dream. I need to forget it.”
But the feeling stayed.
He could still feel the warmth of her delicate body in his arms—the memory lingering in his fingertips like an echo.
He stumbled into the bathroom and splashed water on his face, then stared into the mirror.
“What was his name…? Was he me?”
He shook his head sharply.
“No. Something’s wrong with me. It was just a dream.”
He repeated the words again and again, as if repetition could make them true.
Too drained to think anymore, he returned to bed and fell asleep.
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Friday afternoon, Miguel and Jill sat in the break room, reviewing assignments for the upcoming intern rotation.
Stacks of folders covered the table between them, each holding evaluations and notes from the first term.
The next four-month phase would begin the following week.
Compared to the first rotation, this one was usually smoother—for both interns and doctors.
The awkwardness had faded; everyone had found their rhythm.
They discussed each intern’s personality and performance, weighing strengths against weaknesses.
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“Alex will take care of Naosa, so I’m not worried about her,” Miguel said, scrolling through his notes on a tablet.
“That leaves five other interns for us to divide. Let’s see… Kevin. Sweet guy—clumsy, a little spacey, depends on Naosa too much. The others are… fine. That’s my report.”
They paused, sunlight stretching long and soft across the table.
Then Miguel grinned, a mischievous spark lighting his eyes.
“I have an idea.” He looked at Jill, voice full of mischief. “Sally should take care of Kevin.”
Jill froze, coffee halfway to her lips. “What? Why?”
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“You and Sally have the same level of experience, but she’s terrible at communication. Still, I was shocked by what she said this morning—something almost empathetic. I think it’s time. She needs a challenge. And Kevin’s patient enough to handle her temper. It’ll be good for both.”
Jill tapped her pen thoughtfully, then nodded. “Okay. That might actually work. She’ll manage.”
A small smile tugged at her lips.
“Let’s make it happen,” Miguel said, looking far too pleased as he finalized the assignments with a few confident taps.
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That night, Alex went back to the bar.
He scanned the room—and saw him.
The fortune-teller was sitting at the same table, as if he’d been waiting.
Alex hesitated, then walked over and sat across from him.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly.
The man looked up and met his gaze. “Hi. What would you like to know tonight?” he asked, already shuffling the cards.
Alex hesitated. “Nothing, really.”
“Then what can I do for you?”
“I’ve been having this strange dream,” Alex said slowly. “I’m not sure what it means. But I needed to tell someone.”
The man placed the deck on the table.
“The cards can say many things,” he murmured. “They change with time…”
He began flipping the cards one by one—then froze.
A long silence.
“This never happens.”
He looked up. “Do you remember your last reading? These are the exact same cards. In the exact same positions.”
Alex stared at the spread in silence.
The fortune-teller pointed. “See? This is you—the Knight. And this is her—the Queen. The one you’ll fall in love with. She’s far from where you are.”
Alex’s voice was quiet. “But I haven’t met her. You said I would never have her.”
“Yes. Because you’re a Knight, and she’s a Queen. The Knight can never become the King. He can never have her.”
“…Right.”
Alex stood, dropped some money on the table, and turned away.
“Maybe I saw those cards that night… and imagined everything after that,” he muttered. “It was just a dream. Just a story my brain made up.”
He left the bar.
He wanted to believe it.
The fortune-teller watched his retreating back for a long, silent moment.
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Monday morning.
The interns returned, gathering in the department’s main office as new team members were introduced.
The room buzzed with conversation—except for one young woman who couldn’t stop sneezing.
“S-sorry… this room is so dusty! I need fresh air!” she sniffled, eyes watering as her delicate features scrunched in discomfort.
Alex gave her a mildly judgmental look, one eyebrow raised.
“Are you okay?” Jill asked, stepping closer in concern.
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“I have allergies. Sorry, I’m fine. Ah-CHOO!” Her sneeze echoed through the room, earning a few startled looks.
“Bless you,” Miguel said calmly, offering her a tissue.
“Can I clean the room?” she asked, already teary-eyed, glancing around at the dust-covered shelves and corners.
“No, you can’t,” Miguel replied flatly, crossing his arms.
“Oh no! I’m breaking out in hives!” she cried, staring at her arms as red patches bloomed across her skin.
Alex sighed and finally intervened.
“I’ll clean today. Just wear a mask—or sit in the research room.” He gestured toward the glass-walled lab.
“Thank you!” she said, rushing inside. She took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing as clean air filled her lungs.
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Miguel leaned toward Alex and whispered, doubtful.
“Can you even clean? Seriously?”
Having been Alex’s roommate for years, Miguel already knew the answer—Alex cleaning usually meant pushing things into corners or under furniture.
“I… will,” Alex muttered, avoiding his gaze.
“All I do is worry,” Miguel sighed, shaking his head.
“I agree,” Jill and Sally chimed in simultaneously, exchanging knowing glances.
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Miguel clapped his hands, drawing the group’s attention.
“All right, Alex—you’ll be working in the research room today. And this is Naosa, the intern you’ll be supervising.”
Sally started toward the lab, clipboard in hand, but Miguel called after her,
“Hold on—Sally, you’re paired with Kevin. The others will stay here.”
“What??” Sally froze, her usual composure slipping.
Kevin smiled brightly, blissfully unaware of her horror. “Please be kind to me,” he said with a polite bow.
“…What??” Sally repeated, her voice a full octave higher as reality sank in.
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Miguel and Jill exchanged a look—then burst out laughing, unable to contain their amusement at Sally’s stunned expression.
“This term is going to be fun,” they said in unison, grinning at the promising chaos they’d just set in motion.
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