The tension in the OR is suffocating. You and Erica are locked in yet another battle of egos, voices sharp over the steady beeping of monitors.

"You’re reckless," she snaps, not even looking up as she sutures with practiced precision.

You glace up at her while suturing, "And you’re infuriating. Maybe if you let someone else have an opinion for once—" you started

"Maybe if you had a better one, I would." she murmured cutting you off

The scrub nurse shifts uncomfortably as the air crackles between you, but neither of you back down. This isn’t just a disagreement—it’s a war. And neither of you plan on losing.