Chapter 2

Saint George Medical Centre. SGMC.

A massive hospital standing proudly in the very heart of downtown Toronto. Without question, it was the largest hospital in Canada and one of the most prestigious medical centres in eastern Canada, boasting a history spanning two centuries.

“Good morning!”

Taehee cheerfully greeted the enormous security guard standing at the entrance in his stab-resistant uniform before pushing open the revolving door.

The moment she scanned her freshly issued ID badge and stepped onto the escalator in the spacious lobby, a wave of emotion washed over her. She discreetly wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand.

After enduring brutal shifts and suffering endless nosebleeds at a regional trauma centre, here she was, reporting for her very first day of work in the heart of Canada.

Brilliant morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the lofty lobby. The café in one corner released the rich, unhurried aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The doctors walking through the corridors didn’t look as though they were constantly racing against the clock.

There were no crowded hospital billing counters like the ones that filled Korean hospital lobbies. Nor were there family members shouting at staff and demanding discounts on their medical bills.

It was exactly the sort of scene she’d only ever seen in American medical dramas.

So people really do have time to drink coffee during work…

Swallowing her amazement, Taehee entered the staff-only locker room and put on the brand-new white coat she’d been issued.

Once she pinned on her badge, she genuinely felt like the protagonist of a medical drama.

She took a deep breath, then headed to the vending machine and bought herself a cup of coffee.

That was when a massive wall suddenly appeared right in front of her.

Startled, Taehee nearly dropped her paper cup, which tilted precariously in her hand.

“Ah! Excusez-moi!”

At the very last moment before colliding with someone, her reflexes had summoned neither English nor Korean, but an entirely unexpected burst of French.

The man who had nearly been showered with coffee first glanced down at the wobbling cup, then let out a silent chuckle.

“C’est rien. Tout va bien.”
(It’s all right. You didn’t spill anything.)

Wow. What an incredible accent.

“Looks like you came prepared with French too, Dr. Han.”

Huh?

She knew that voice.

Raising her head, Taehee found herself looking up at a tall blonde man wearing a white coat over dark navy scrubs.

“Ah…”

It was the very same man who had pulled her away from the homeless man on the icy street the previous night.

“Oh, my goodness! You work here? I’ve felt terrible about not properly thanking you yesterday.”

“As long as you made it to work safely, that’s good enough.”

The man casually glanced over her ID badge.

“French isn’t a requirement for the Ontario fellowship, though. Why did you go out of your way to learn it?”

“Ah… Well, I heard that knowing both French and English would give me an advantage during the interview. But…”

Her face grew warm with embarrassment. Pretending nothing was wrong, she tucked her hair behind her ear and continued.

“I suppose I crammed a little too much into my head. When I get startled, it’s like my brain starts randomly pressing language switches.”

At Taehee’s playful explanation, the man smiled back warmly.

How on earth does someone even look that handsome when smiling?

“Looks like your schedule starts today. This hospital sees a tremendous number of patients, so it’ll be an excellent place to complete your PEAP as well.”

PEAP—the Pre-Entry Assessment Program—was the final hurdle Taehee needed to overcome. It was a clinical assessment process for internationally trained physicians, and she would receive her full medical license only after obtaining final approval from her supervising evaluator.

In other words, she needed to maintain a good relationship with the centre director, no matter what.

“Ah, right. That’s true. I really hope the centre director takes a liking to me.”

At the mention of the centre director, the man gave a faint smile. His pristine white coat looked as though it had been tailored specifically for his broad shoulders.

…But something kept bothering her.

Did I even tell him my name yesterday? And how did he figure out so quickly that I was a fellow?

Sure, her title was printed on her badge, but he’d said it all so naturally.

Taehee cautiously tried to sneak a look at the badge on his chest, but it had conveniently flipped over, revealing only its back.

“Um, but how did you know my na—”

Bzzzt.

A deep vibration sounded from the man’s coat pocket.

“That’s unfortunate. I would have liked to welcome you properly, but I’ve got an urgent call.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for keeping you when you’re busy. But your name…?”

“Ian. Just follow the red line painted on the floor to get to the ER. Don’t get lost, Taehee.”

Pronouncing even her Korean name with smooth, effortless fluency, the man gave her a casual greeting before turning away.

Just as Ian had instructed, Taehee followed the red line painted on the floor and found the emergency department in no time.

It was seven in the morning. The night shift handover had apparently just finished, because when Taehee entered, the staff room looked as though a storm had swept through it.

As she headed toward the staff station for her first shift, she spotted an enormous man struggling with an IV catheter beside a patient’s bed.

“Are you having trouble?”

“Oh. Uh… This elderly gentleman has really difficult veins. I’ve already tried three times, but…”

Sweat was trickling down his face.

Three times?

Taehee discreetly glanced at the elderly patient. He didn’t look particularly pleased.

She’d heard that Canadians were generally laid-back, but three attempts would have been enough to cause a full-blown commotion back in Korea.

The awkwardly smiling man’s badge read:

Dr. Owen Brooks — Clinical Fellow.

My fellow.

She’d heard that she would be the last fellow to report for duty because she was coming all the way from Korea. Apparently, their shifts overlapped today.

“Let me give it a try.”

“Oh! Thank you so much. Sorry about this. For some reason, I’m just not having any luck today…”

“Give me an alcohol swab and a twenty-gauge catheter.”

Taehee took the tourniquet from him with practiced ease and firmly tied it around the elderly gentleman’s wrinkled upper arm.

This was something she could do without even needing to open her eyes.

After all, she had developed the kind of instinct that allowed her to hit the veins of ninety-year-old patients who’d come in after drinking makgeolli in a single attempt.

“Get ready to secure the line.”

She gently stretched the skin to create tension, then inserted the needle at a confident angle.

A bead of red blood appeared at the end of the chamber.

Advance the catheter. Withdraw the needle. Connect the line.

One shot, one success. Not a single drop of blood spilled.

Three seconds. That was all it took.

The patient, who hadn’t even realized the needle had gone in, and the enormous man standing beside him both stared at Taehee’s fingertips with wide-eyed amazement.

“Well, I’ll be! You’ve got remarkably skilled hands, Doctor. From now on, I wish this young lady could be the only one allowed to touch my arm.”

“Oh, come now, Grandpa. You shouldn’t say things like that. You shouldn’t have to come back here in the first place!”

Suppressing the urge to puff out her chest with pride, Taehee flashed the warm, crescent-shaped smile she’d perfected over the years while charming elderly Korean patients.

“Whoa! How did you do that, Dr. Han? I couldn’t even see a vein!”

“It’s just experience.”

The man extended a hand as big as a bear’s paw and grinned broadly.

“Owen Brooks. I’m from Newfoundland. We’re fellows together, right?”

“That’s right. I’m Han Taehee. You can call me Tae.”

“Tae. I like that! Just call me Owen, too. Seriously, that was amazing. I tried three times!”

Owen scratched his head and gave her a shy smile.

He was built like a bear, but the way he behaved was more like an enormous, friendly golden retriever.

As Taehee leisurely made her way toward the staff station, a large nurse who was organizing patient charts glanced up and nodded in greeting.

“You must be the new fellow doctor. Good morning. I’m Natasha, the charge nurse.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Han Taehee. You can call me Tae.”

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Apparently, there were as many as two hundred applicants for this international fellowship program. And I think you’re the first person we’ve had from Asia.”

A sense of excitement swelled inside Taehee.

Still, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

She had a long way to go. She needed to make a good impression on the centre director and get through her PEAP assessment without a hitch.

Just as she was steeling herself and preparing to check her assigned bed numbers and patient charts, an irritating voice came from behind her.

“Oh. So you’re the famous fellowship doctor who got in through a donation.”

A middle-aged man was staring at Taehee with a mocking expression.

His badge read:

Dr. Richard Melton — Emergency Medicine Staff Physician.

Judging by that expression, he was clearly one of the department’s resident troublemakers.

The man gave Taehee a condescending once-over, then continued in a smug voice.

“You must be quite good at buttering up VIPs while wiping their asses. To think you’d get sponsorship from someone like Sophia of all people. I guess your talents lie in… other areas.”

Well, this isn’t anything new.

Taehee had been through enough hellish encounters with difficult people back in Korea to be thoroughly seasoned.

Without showing the slightest sign of being bothered, she shot back.

“Yes. I’m pretty good at lobbying, actually. There’s no better way to win someone over than turning a patient who came in lying down into someone who walks out on their own two feet.”

Melton raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, his expression dripping with sarcasm.

“Ah. I was curious about the exceptional talent who managed to beat such incredible competition. I just didn’t expect you to be such a young woman. I feel like I’ve been hit pretty hard from behind.”

What a charming thing to say to someone he’d never even met before.

I’m the one who’s been hit from behind here. I never expected to find an idiot like you even after coming all the way to Canada!

The mechanical smile on Taehee’s lips grew noticeably colder.

“Haha. I’m sorry to hear you’ve been hit so hard. So who exactly were you expecting to find in this position?”

“Well, you know what I mean. Still, if you’re an Asian woman, I suppose you’ll have quick hands. The girls at my wife’s nail salon are all Asian, too. They’re incredibly good at crouching over and sticking those tiny little glitter things onto nails.”

Taehee wasn’t the only one left speechless by his remark.

Owen, who had been quietly listening beside her, had gone pale as well.

And understandably so. The man had managed to combine racism and misogyny into a single sentence.

But Taehee wasn’t about to lose her temper over something like this.

“Oh, absolutely. Those women are incredibly talented. Why don’t you try learning from them, Dr. Melton? I’ve heard those skills can actually be quite useful when it comes to vascular anastomosis and handling sutures.”

Melton, who had been looking Taehee up and down, opened his mouth to fire back at her unexpected retort.

But at that very moment, the door to the centre director’s office at the back of the staff station, which had remained firmly shut until then, swung open.

“What sort of big shot were you expecting, Dr. Melton?”