Chapter 63Arrival JOHN'S POVThe morning was cold and gray, the kind that makes your bones ache just from looking outside, where your bed feels like the only reasonable place to be on earth.But no. Not today.Everything was already loaded. Lawrence had handled most of the packing last night, and honestly, watching that man work was almost unsettling. Every box labeled, every bag placed with purpose. The man packed like he was preparing for war, not a three-hour drive. The vehicles sat in the driveway in a neat row, engines off, waiting.Maya and Silas were still moving a few last pieces of equipment between cars when I stepped outside. Thomas stood near the front, one arm crossed over his chest, the other hanging at his side. His shoulder was still giving him trouble. He couldn't lift much, but he could still direct, and he did it well, pointing and calling out instructions like he had a script memorized."That one goes in the second car," he said, not even looking up as I walked p

Chapter 65The Mixer. JOHN'S POVThe mixer was supposed to be informal. That's what the notice said. Informal. A casual gathering before the opening ceremony, a chance for people to meet and get comfortable with each other.Nothing about this room was casual.The common room was large, well-lit, filled with people dressed in clothes that cost more than most people's monthly rent. Servants moved through the crowd with trays, drinks and small plates of food appearing and disappearing like magic. Conversations happened in clusters, groups of people standing close together, voices low and measured, every word chosen with care. It felt like every networking event I'd ever avoided, multiplied by ten and injected with something that made it worse.I grabbed a drink from a passing tray and tried to look like I belonged.The introductions started almost immediately.Someone would approach, extend a hand, smile the kind of smile that doesn't quite reach the eyes. Name. Family. A few lines abou

Chapter 67What We Signed Up ForJOHN'S POVThe auditorium was massive. Five hundred seats, easy, maybe more. Every single one of them filled. The energy in the room was thick, a mix of anticipation and nerves that you could almost taste in the air. People shifted in their seats, leaned toward each other in quiet conversation, eyes darting around the space like they were trying to memorize every face before things started.The stage was elaborate. Banners hung from the walls behind it, each one representing a different medical tradition, colors and symbols I half-recognized from textbooks and training. The lighting was set up for drama, spotlights angled and ready, the kind of setup that told you whoever planned this wanted people to feel something sitting here tonight.I found my seat near the middle, my team scattered in the rows around me. Lawrence was two seats to my right, perfectly still, eyes fixed on the stage. Maya was behind me, fidgeting. Silas was somewhere further back. I

Chapter 69Scoreboard leaderboard.JOHN'S POVThe questions shifted as I moved deeper into the booklet.Gone were the straightforward anatomy and diagnosis sections. Everything now was specific, layered, the kind of material that separated people who genuinely understood medicine from those who'd memorized enough to get by. Each question demanded more than the last, and the room felt the difference. The pencil scratching around me had changed rhythm, slower in some places, more hesitant in others.The herbal medicine section stopped me for a beat.Not because it was difficult. Because it felt familiar in a way that went beyond studying. Plant identification. Preparation methods. Traditional uses across different cultures, techniques passed down through generations rather than taught in classrooms. I recognized herbs from my master's garden, could see them clearly in my mind, dark leaves and dried roots laid out on his worktable while he talked me through what each one did and why.I r

JOHN'S POVBreakfast sits heavy in my stomach, anxiety about the scheduled interview making it hard to eat. The notice said psychological evaluation, individual appointments, mandatory attendance. My time slot is mid-morning which means I get to spend the whole morning dreading it while others go first.I push food around my plate while my team eats normally around me. Lawrence notices my lack of appetite."You should at least drink the juice," he says, sliding the glass closer to me. "Keep your blood sugar up."I comply but it doesn't help the nervous energy coursing through me.Maya watches me for a moment, then asks, "Worried about the interview?""I don't like the idea of being psychologically evaluated by strangers with agendas I don't understand," I admit."None of us do," she says. "But it's mandatory, so we don't have much choice.""What do you think they're looking for?" Thomas asks.Lawrence shrugs. "Stability, probably. They want to know if we can handle pressure without br