Chapter 77

Aisha's POV To think I'd imagined the hospital as a sanctuary. A temple to science, compassion, and shared purpose. What a fool's dream. By the end of my fourth day, I realized that the neutral hospital was less a beacon of unity and more a diplomatic warzone—diplomacy being performed through clipped tones, backhanded compliments, and enough passive aggression to sterilize a surgical suite. It started innocently enough. "Werewolf?" the High Elf administrator asked as she read my ID badge, her nose crinkling like she'd sniffed a fermented turnip. "Charming. Well, the sterilizer room could use someone with... your energy." I smiled. The kind of smile that makes wolves bare teeth. "I'm a certified trauma healer, actually. Seven years in battlefield rotations." Her eyes flicked to mine, amused. "Oh, how quaint. We usually reserve patient-facing roles for species with... less of a violent scent, but we do value diversity." Ah yes, the old ‘we value diversity' before herded into the metaphor