The remark felt like both praise and pressure at the same time. Lillian swallowed hard, nodding silently, unsure whether to feel encouraged or overwhelmed. Catherine’s words always carried an undercurrent of expectation, and Lillian couldn’t help but feel that she was already being measured against her sisters before she had even begun.
The conversation shifted back to the hospital’s politics, leaving Lillian once again on the outskirts. Roz and Catherine resumed their debate, this time over research priorities and the latest studies, while Evelyn observed with her usual detached air, offering sharp comments when necessary.
Lillian, for her part, stayed quiet, letting their words wash over her. She was used to it by now—the way the senior members of the family dominated these lunches, their lives so intertwined with the hospital’s inner workings that there was no room left for anyone just starting out. Even with Olivia’s occasional encouragement, Lillian still felt the gap between them, as if she were on a different level entirely.
The lunch dragged on, the intellectual sparring continuing without pause. By the time dessert arrived, Lillian had resigned herself to listening, feeling smaller with every passing minute. Her first week had been hard—gruelling even—but it seemed insignificant compared to the monumental decisions and discussions her sisters were having.
As the meal drew to a close, Lillian glanced out the window, the sinking sun casting long shadows across the room. She had a big day ahead of her, and despite the feeling of isolation, sheknew she had to focus. Monday meant starting under Dr. Lang, and whatever nerves she had, she couldn’t afford to falter.
But as she stood to leave, her mind was still filled with the distant conversations of her family, their words echoing in her head as a reminder that she had yet to truly earn her place at the table.
The hospital buzzed with its usual Monday morning energy, the controlled chaos that defined every week at Harrington Memorial Hospital. The name of the hospital was no coincidence- her family’s surgical legacy was legendary. Lillian stepped through the glass doors, her nerves humming with a mix of excitement and apprehension. She had a full day ahead—her first official class with her fellow interns and then, finally, the meeting with her mentor, Dr. Lang.
As she made her way through the main lobby and toward the classroom wing, Lillian focused on the practical. She couldn’t afford to let her nerves get the best of her—not now, not when she had worked so hard to be here. Her first week had been grueling, but today was a fresh start.
The room for the class was small but bright, with rows of chairs lined up in front of a whiteboard, some already filled by her fellow interns. Lillian scanned the room, looking for a seat, when she caught sight of a man about her age lounging in the back row, his hair a bit tousled, wearing a mischievous grin. He waved at her, motioning for her to join him.
“Hey, Harrington, right? The one with all the family connections?” the man said as she took the seat next to him.
Lillian hesitated, unsure how to respond to the obvious mention of her last name.
Before she could say anything, he laughed. “Relax. I’m kidding. I’m Benji.” He extended his hand, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Nice to meet you. I hear you’re the queen of this place, at least by birthright.”
Lillian couldn’t help but smile at his easy humor. She shook his hand, feeling some of the tension slip away. “I don’t know about queen. But yeah, that’s me.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not one of those people who’s going to suck up to you because of your name.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I only suck up to people who bring me coffee.”
Lillian laughed, feeling a genuine warmth toward him. Benji’s laid-back approach and humor were exactly what she needed this morning. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Benji leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “So, how’s the first week been? I heard it’s brutal. Everyone here is sizing you up, yeah?”
“It’s...been a lot,” Lillian admitted, glancing around the room as more interns filtered in. “I’ve been trying to just keep my head down and work.”
Benji nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it. The pressure here is no joke. But hey, you’ve got me now. I’m your unofficial tour guide and moral support. No need to suffer alone.”
Lillian found herself liking Benji instantly. There was something easy and comforting about his presence, the kind of person who could take the edge off an otherwise intense environment. They chatted quietly as the room filled up, Benji cracking jokes about the hospital hierarchy, the absurdities of being an intern, and even their upcoming class, which he described as “a crash course in surviving the madness.”
The class went well enough—basic orientation about procedures, rotations, and expectations. The instructor droned on, and Lillian found herself occasionally glancing over atBenji, who made exaggerated faces at some of the instructor’s comments, clearly not taking it all too seriously. His jokes and quiet comments kept Lillian from getting too lost in her own nerves.
After class, as they packed up to leave, Benji bumped her lightly with his shoulder. “Good luck with your mentor meeting today. Don’t worry about it too much, though. I’m sure they’ll be great.”
Lillian forced a smile, though her stomach had already started twisting itself into knots. “Thanks. I’m meeting Dr. Lang.”
Benji whistled softly. “Dr. Lang, huh? Yeah, she’s legendary, but she’s kind of got that whole Ice Queen vibe, doesn’t she? Heard she doesn’t give much away, but hey, that could be a good thing. No small talk, just straight to business.”
Lillian nodded, trying to suppress the rising anxiety in her chest. “Yeah…should be interesting.”
“Interesting is one way to put it,” Benji said with a wink before heading off toward his next task. “Catch you later, Harrington. And remember, I take my coffee black.”
Lillian’s heart raced as she walked down the polished halls of Harrington Memorial, trying to focus on the task at hand. She had gotten through her first class with a few nerves, but it had gone well enough, and meeting Benji had been a welcome distraction. The jokes about her status as a Harrington had been surprisingly refreshing, and his laid-back attitude had put her at ease. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his last words.
The calm he had provided began to slip away as she neared the cardiothoracic wing, where her mentor, Dr. RebeccaLang, awaited. The name had hung over her since she was assigned to her rotation, a name synonymous with brilliance, exacting standards, and, from what she had heard, a rather cold demeanor. Lillian had spent the weekend trying to prepare herself mentally for the intensity of working under Dr. Lang. But as she reached the door, her nerves surged, and she wondered if anything could truly prepare her.
She reached up, knocking softly on the office door, her hand slightly shaking. Her mind was full of expectations: Dr. Lang, the Ice Queen, her mother’s colleague and close professional friend, renowned for her surgical skill and her emotional distance.
“Come in,” came a sharp but calm voice from the other side.
Lillian swallowed hard and turned the knob, stepping into the office.
