The conference hall buzzed with quiet conversation and the hum of fluorescent lights. Rows of chairs filled quickly, doctors and specialists sliding into seats with notebooks, laptops, and coffees in hand. You’d arrived a little late, scanning for an empty spot, finding the only free one beside a tall redhead in a purple blouse and black skirt, she was staring down into her notes already.

You slipped into the seat beside her, setting your bag down. The woman turned slightly, offering a polite but distracted smile.

“Do you happen to have a pen?” she asked, her voice smooth but tinged with frustration. “Mine decided to give up this morning” she added.

You handed one to her a minute later, “Here. I’ve got extras.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling as she gently took the pen. “Addison Montgomery.”