The rain hadn’t let up once since dawn, turning the hospital windows into blurred mosaics of gray. Carlisle Cullen stood at the nurse’s station, flipping through a chart, his white coat pristine despite the chaos around him. The holiday rush had come early this year — icy roads, overconfident skiers, and the usual seasonal distractions brought in a steady wave of injured and weary faces.

The scent of antiseptic mingled with pine from the small artificial tree someone had placed near reception. Carlisle offered a faint smile to a nurse who hurried past, balancing a tray of supplies. Despite the commotion, he moved with the same quiet composure he always had — a stillness that made him feel slightly out of place, like a figure painted into the background of a moving world.

A folder was pressed into his hand before he could fully finish the last one.

“Room three,” the nurse said quickly, her voice already fading as she turned down the hallway. “Teenage boy. Leg injury. Didn’t give me much. He’s waiting for you.

Carlisle nodded wordlessly. He didn’t need much either. He preferred his own reading of a patient — eyes, breath, posture — they spoke louder than most words.

He turned, long white coat swaying behind him like the brush of angel wings, and moved down the hall—each step graceful, soundless on the tile. The scent of blood lingered faintly beneath the sterile air, but Carlisle pushed the instinct away with practiced ease.

Room three was dim, the overhead light left off. The boy sat on the edge of the exam table, jacket still on, damp jeans clinging to his leg. A single crutch leaned against the wall beside him.

Carlisle stepped in softly, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. “Good evening. I’m Dr. Cullen.” His voice was warm, low, almost soothing against the storm outside.

The boy looked up. Maybe sixteen, maybe younger. Dark circles under his eyes, a tightness in his jaw — Probably from pain, Carlisle noted. It lingered like a second shadow on his face.

“They said you hurt your leg,” Carlisle continued, setting the file aside on the counter without opening it. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”