82 - Out of control

MORGANA FOSTER

I raise my eyes to meet the man's gaze again. He has angular features, a small frame, but even though he's lean, there's a hint of defined muscle. His hair is curly and in shades of brown, and he has deep, dark eyes, probably a studious type who doesn't get much sleep. Looking at him with a disinterested expression, I don't like people who flatter me, but I can't afford to deny having a friend at the hospital. Especially within my own team.

I raise my hand and shake his hand back. "I can't tell you whether these rumors are true, but I can't say they're lies either," I say with a low laugh. "I did very well in my internship last year."

"I know!" he says. "I researched a lot about you." He quickly corrects himself, "No, I'm not some kind of stalker. I just genuinely admire people who dedicate themselves to their work."

"So, that's what you were talking to that redhead friend of yours about when I arrived?"

"Who? Keila?" He nood. "Yeah, that must be her." I said. He shrugs