Medical Center.
Morning.
Adam was doing rounds with the four interns.
"Dr. Duncan, can I see Lola?" Owen asked.
"Not a good time," Adam shook his head. "Focus on healing up first. You'll have plenty of chances to meet later."
"Is it because she doesn't want to see me?"
After a brutal "lesson" from his bald, hotheaded big brother, Owen's brain seemed to finally kick into gear.
"They've all been transferred," Adam said, giving him a look.
"Heh."
Owen let out a dry laugh. "So, you're saying they just had surgery, aren't even fit to move, and still forced a transfer—just because I'm here?"
Uh… yeah. 😅
That smile was loaded with layers.
George and the others dropped their heads, avoiding eye contact. No way around it—if they were in the same spot, facing a criminal that terrifying, they'd probably bolt to another hospital too, just to get a little distance.
Owen went quiet, his gaze turning deep and unreadable.
Adam gave the interns some instructions and headed to the ER alone.
"Jenny's not here?"
Adam did a quick sweep, didn't spot her, and asked casually.
"She took the morning off," a nurse explained. "Need me to page her for you, Dr. Duncan?"
"Nah, it's fine," Adam said with a smile and a shake of his head.
As long as she wasn't in the trauma bay treating patients, he didn't mind. Don't judge someone's pain unless you've walked in their shoes. Adam knew Jenny was struggling, even if he couldn't fully grasp it. But he could tell she wasn't heartless—otherwise, she wouldn't go out of her way to avoid sharp objects or swap trauma duties, risking someone noticing.
So yeah, he was disappointed by her stubbornness and selfishness, but he wouldn't push too hard. Who isn't a little selfish? If he were in her shoes—years of hard work, finally landing a solid job, only to face losing it all because of this nightmare—he'd be torn too. Still, after wrestling with it, he'd probably opt for a transfer, steering clear of high-risk trauma work. Selfish or not, he wouldn't want to hurt anyone.
---
Noon.
Cafeteria.
Adam was eating when Jenny walked up.
"Dr. Duncan."
"Jenny, something up?" Adam glanced at her.
"Yeah," she nodded.
"Alright, let's talk over there."
Adam got up, led her to the skybridge, and waited.
"Sorry, Dr. Duncan," Jenny started, her emotions steadier now. "I got worked up before. You don't know what I've been through lately—listening to others like me, their stories… it's been crushing. I kept feeling like everyone's out to get me. But I know you're not like that."
"Totally get it," Adam nodded, keeping it neutral.
"I went to Dr. Angelo this morning—no detectable viral load!" Jenny perked up. "I think the cocktail therapy's really working."
"Congrats! That's awesome news," Adam said genuinely.
Cocktail therapy—mixing three or more antivirals to fight HIV, like blending a cocktail—cuts down on drug resistance, slams the brakes on the virus, slows the disease, extends life, and boosts quality of living. For someone like Tatiana, another HIV patient, it was a ray of hope too.
"Dr. Duncan…" Jenny hesitated, looking at him.
"Sorry," Adam cut in gently. "You're a PA—you know no detectable viral load just means it's below what the machines can pick up. It's not a cure, and it doesn't mean you can't still pass it on."
"…I know," Jenny's eyes dimmed. After a quiet moment, she met his gaze. "You said you'd help me balance the risks and my job. Was that for real?"
"Of course it was," Adam nodded. "We're colleagues. We all know you're a victim here too. If there's a way, we'd all pitch in to help however we can."
If it were Mark Sloan catching this from his wild lifestyle, well, tough luck—guy had it coming. But Jenny? Never messed around. Got it from her now-ex-husband. Who could've seen that coming or stopped it?
"Is there a way?" Jenny asked, hope flickering in her eyes.
She'd been gutted and furious when Adam shot her down flat before. These past few days, she'd heard too many "everyone's against us" stories, wiring her brain into a help-or-hurt binary. But after a night to cool off and this morning's good news, it clicked: Adam wasn't refusing to help—he just didn't vibe with her hiding it and putting innocent patients at risk. He'd even said they could find a balance. With his rep and skills, that wasn't just talk.
And what had she done? Pushed away someone willing to help, even threatened to sue him. If he didn't care, he could've let a rumor slip and let the gossip storm bury her. Instead, he quietly pulled her aside to talk.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Jenny mentally kicked herself a million times. She wasn't this dumb before. Sure, the past few days had messed with her head, but not this bad. "Am I actually losing it?" She remembered Adam mentioning dementia as an early full-blown AIDS symptom. Halfway back, she doubled back to Dr. Angelo's office and spilled her fears. After a checkup, Angelo assured her—no dementia signs.
"There's definitely a way," Adam said with a smile. "I had ideas before, but you weren't ready to hear them. You want to chase your career and life's purpose, not waste years of hard work shuffling papers or sending emails—that's fair. It doesn't have to clash with keeping patients safe. You know how desperate places like Sunshine House are for good doctors? You could work there, helping kids with HIV—treating them, caring for them. No one gets their struggles like you do. If you're up for it, you'd be the sweetest doctor in their eyes. Isn't that way better than sticking it out in trauma, stressing over risks to patients and yourself? Isn't that worth something?"
"Could that work?" Jenny froze, then lit up.
"As long as you're in, absolutely," Adam nodded.
If Sunshine House wouldn't take a doctor like Jenny, Adam could get Caroline to set up a new one just for kids with mother-to-child HIV. If Jenny saw this as her calling, he was sure she'd be the perfect fit—more dedicated than anyone. It'd be a win for her and those kids. Adam was happy to make it happen.
Jenny wasn't about to say no.
---
After sorting that out, Adam headed to the wards in a good mood. George and Shorty were outside a room, George wearing a wry smile. From inside came a woman's voice with a thick British accent.
(Chapter End)