The bar was alive with its usual Friday-night hum—laughter tangled with clinking glasses, a jukebox humming softly in the background. In the far corner booth, the familiar group from Grey Sloan had claimed their usual spot. Meredith sat pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Derek, her head thrown back in laughter at something Jo had just said. Alex was mid-eye-roll, but the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

Maggie was waving her hands dramatically as she reenacted a moment from her day, Jackson watching with amused patience. Owen and Teddy sat on the edge of the booth, half-listening, half-lost in their own quiet conversation. And Amelia—Amelia sat tucked into the corner, arms crossed on the table, a glass of sparkling water between her hands, eyes flicking from friend to friend with a quiet warmth.

Then Jo said something that made Meredith choke on her drink, and the whole table burst out laughing again.