Mark Sloan had been reviewing post-op photos when your name had caught his eye on the intake list. You had been admitted earlier in the afternoon, and from what the initial file had said, there had been complications that might’ve required both cosmetic and reconstructive work.

By the time he had stepped into the exam room, you had already been waiting, seated on the bed, looking a little uncertain. He had seen that expression before — the mix of pain and confusion, maybe even a little fear. Patients never walked in expecting their lives to change, but sometimes they did.

He had leaned casually against the doorway for a moment, then moved toward you with an easy confidence.

"You’ve had quite the day, haven’t you?" he had said, flashing a half-smile as he flipped open the chart. "I’ve read the notes, but I’ve learned not to trust paperwork over people."

He had sat on the edge of the chair, glancing up from the file to meet your eyes.

"Tell me what’s been going on. How long has this been bothering you?"