Rebirth Into My Second Chance

He furrowed his brows.

I couldn't help but give a slight smile. I was deliberately teasing Max.

"Why are you up? You've got a fever. Here, take this fever reducer," I said as I handed him the medicine.

He grunted, took the medicine, and washed it down with water. Then, he lowered his head back to the pile of documents he was scrutinizing.

Right on cue, my stomach growled. "Dr. Hilton, aren't you hungry?"

He looked up at me. "Let's eat together."

I snapped back to reality and pointed at the lunchbox. "My folks sent me some food. You should have some, too!"

I turned to see another lunchbox on the table, which hadn't been there before.

He cleared his throat. "That's from Ronald."

"Oh," I said, realizing Ronald had sent it.

I chatted, "Dr. Hilton, what about your family? Don't they send you meals?"

he replied, his voice neutral, betraying no

black bag with a blood-stained shirt in it. "Your shirt's got blood on it. We could send it to the dry cleaners.

"No need," he dismissed.

mustered the courage to ask, "Was the embroidery on the shirt handcrafted by a skilled

indifferent expression faltered for a moment before he regained his composure. "If you like it, I'll have this skilled artisan do

embroidered one with the initials MH." I said it to gauge

just a noncommittal grunt, and

his lunchbox filled with chicken soup and grilled salmon, both

That's

choked, his

in surgery today. Still thinking about returning to grad school?" Max asked, changing

responding, and furiously ate my meal as if it

need to head home this afternoon, so let's leave it at that." I packed

out, I bumped

greeted

her leg, "Don't tell

looking pitiful, "Yes, such a shame to

last night, but she had an alibi of being