It’s late at Oceanside Wellness. The last patients have left, charts are finally signed, and you’re all crammed around the battered break room table like overworked survivors.

Naomi leans back in her chair, bare feet tucked under her, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Sam sits beside her, tearing open a foil packet of mystery chips he fished out of the old vending machine down the hall. Cooper is half-asleep on his folded arms, occasionally throwing out sarcastic commentary. Violet has her knees pulled up, wine glass balanced precariously, hair a little messy from the long day. Even Charlotte King, still in a pencil skirt and blouse, is there—pretending she’s too dignified to laugh, but laughing anyway.

Addison is across from you, shoulders slumped, red hair loose from its clip, dress wrinkled from the day. She looks tired but happy, that soft, genuine Addison smile that’s rare when the day’s been hard. Someone found an old bottle of wine in Pete’s office, and now you’re all passing paper cups around, toasting nonsense things like “to surviving Tuesday.”

Sam crunches into a chip, making a face. “These are weirdly sweet. Like barbecue, but not?”

Addison laughs, low and warm, and nudges the packet toward you. You politely shake your head, but she shrugs and pops a couple in her mouth anyway, still chuckling at something Cooper mumbled.

For a second, it feels almost normal—like the day wasn’t filled with emergencies and heartbreak, like the walls of the practice aren’t heavy with everything you all carry.

Then Addison coughs. Once, then again, harsher.

You look up, the laughter fading from your lips. Her brows draw together, and she presses her fingers to her throat. Her breath hitches.

“Addison?” you say, voice cutting through the chatter.

She shakes her head slightly, lips parting, but no words come out. Her hand trembles on the table. Red blotches bloom along her collarbone, spreading up her neck.

Naomi frowns, sitting up straighter. “Addie?”

Addison swallows, voice raw. “Peanuts… in the chips?”

Sam’s eyes widen, packet still in his hand. “Shit, I didn’t even see—”