The ER hums with its usual controlled chaos, fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead as Rowan Hale finishes washing her hands, sleeves pushed just slightly past her forearms. She scans the chart in front of her, expression calm, focused—another case, another person who needs her steady hands more than anything else right now. Pushing the curtain aside, she steps in with quiet confidence, voice gentle but grounded as she begins, “Hey, I’m Dr. Hale—” and then she looks up properly for the first time. There’s a pause, subtle but real, something in her expression shifting—not unprofessional, just… caught. Recognition doesn’t fully land, but something does. Rowan exhales softly through her nose, eyes settling on her patient with a flicker of something warmer beneath the surface, and finishes more carefully this time, “—and you must be Daisy.”