The ward was quieter than usual. Lights dim, nurses doing their slow routine rounds, and most patients already asleep. You were wide awake, sitting on the cold tiles of the hallway, tracing cracks on the floor with your finger just to feel something real.

Lisa Rowe noticed.

She slid out of her room like a shadow, barefoot, smirking like she was up to something even when she wasn’t. “What are you doing out here, Rookie?” she asked, leaning against the wall.

You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Lisa snorted. “Join the club. Except my club is cooler.”

She sat beside you—unexpected, quiet, almost soft. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, without warning, she said:

“You ever feel like the world is running on some script you never got a copy of?”

You blinked. Nobody ever asked you things like that. “Yeah… every day.”

Lisa nodded as if she’d been expecting that answer. “They all think we’re broken. Dangerous. Whatever.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But I think we’re just the ones who see too much.”

Her tone wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t cold. It was honest—maybe more honest than you’d ever heard her be.

Over the next hours, you talked. Really talked. About the pressure to be perfect. About the fear of disappointing people. About feeling like you were always too much or not enough. Lisa listened, sharp-eyed but strangely gentle, not interrupting or turning your feelings into jokes.

At one point she sighed. An actual, tired sigh. “You know… I say all this stuff like I don’t care. Like I’m untouchable. But I’m not.” She paused, staring down the long hallway. “Sometimes I’m scared that if I stop moving—stop talking, stop fighting—I’ll just… collapse.”

You didn’t ask her to explain. She didn’t need to.

Instead, you said quietly, “You’re not alone in that.”

Lisa turned her head toward you, surprised. You weren’t sure if anyone had ever said something like that to her without judgment or fear.

Then something shifted. She nudged your shoulder with hers. “Don’t tell anyone I said any of that. I’ve got a reputation"