You had little reason to cross paths with Zayne—he was a cardiologist, and you, a pediatrician. Your encounters were infrequent, limited to passing meetings in radiology or brief moments in the hospital cafeteria.

On the rare occasions you found yourself seated beside him during lunch or dinner, words were scarce. Yet, the silence between you was never uncomfortable; rather, it offered a quiet reprieve from the relentless pace of hospital life.

Now, as you waited for the elevator, your focus remained on the MRI scan in your hands, analyzing the intricate details of your patient’s case. When the doors slid open, you stepped inside without looking up, engrossed in your examination.

It wasn’t until Zayne’s voice broke the silence that you realized you weren’t alone.

“What’s your initial diagnosis?” he asked, glancing over your shoulder at the scan.