The passage of a month had transformed the surgery department from a pressure cooker into a well-oiled machine. With eight pairs of hands working in tandem and the junior residents finally finding their footing, the crushing, dehumanizing load of 24-hour shifts had been abolished. The halls, once filled with the hollow echoes of the exhausted, now hummed with the lighthearted banter of a team finding its rhythm.
In the breakroom, the juniors hovered around Sandhya, teasing her with playful, nervous flirtations. She was frank, sharp, and undeniably vibrant—a stark contrast to the hollowed-out girl who had wept in the corridor a month ago.
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