Lin Meilin hadn't slept. Again.
She'd closed her eyes at some point. Maybe even dreamed for five minutes. But now she was staring at her phone screen, checking the time, the date, and the CCTV footage from the hallway on loop.
3:42 AM. Still no one had entered Room 14.
And yet the hairs on the back of her neck wouldn't settle.
In her gut, something was off.
She slid her coat on, grabbed her ID, and headed out before her brain could overthink it.
Down the corridor, everything looked the same dim lights, quiet beeps, nurses moving like ghosts.
Except Room 14's door was cracked open.
She frowned.
That door had been locked.
She stepped closer, careful not to make noise.
Inside, Li Jun was still in bed but sitting up, tense, eyes trained on the door like he'd been expecting someone worse.
"Did someone come in here?" Meilin whispered.
He didn't answer. Just pointed to the floor.
A black footprint. Muddy. Fresh.
Meilin's stomach dropped.
"I locked the door," she said, more to herself than to him.
"Not well enough," he murmured. "They're watching."
She didn't panic not outwardly.
But inside, her nerves tangled like knotted wires.
Someone had been in that room.
A stranger. Not staff. Not a patient.
She scanned the hallway on her way out, heart hammering. Nothing. Just the flickering light that always seemed like a bad omen.
Yichen found her ten minutes later in the storage closet, where she was pretending to restock gauze.
"You look like you saw a ghost," he said.
"Maybe I did."
He arched an eyebrow. "Room 14?"
She nodded. "Someone broke in."
Yichen's face went serious, fast. "You're sure?"
"I saw the footprint."
He crossed his arms. "Okay. We talk to security. Then you stay out of that room tonight."
"I'm not leaving him alone."
"Meilin"
"I don't care if he's paranoid. Someone was there."
He looked at her for a long moment. Then sighed. "Fine. I'll stay too."
By 5 AM, security confirmed it.
One camera just outside Room 14 had cut out for 43 seconds.
No footage. No glitch report. Nothing.
Someone had known exactly what they were doing.
"I hate being right," Meilin muttered.
Yichen rubbed the back of his neck. "You think Li Jun's some kind of whistleblower? Spy? Target?"
"He's scared of something real. That's enough for me."
Yichen smiled faintly. "Look at you. Becoming the hospital's resident rebel."
She gave him a look. "If I'm a rebel, you're the ringleader."
"Fair."
Morning brought more chaos.
A bus accident dumped six patients into the ER at once. Broken ribs, concussions, panic attacks.
Yichen jumped in with his usual flair, giving orders, cracking jokes, stitching a leg while sipping flat soda.
Meilin worked beside him without pause moving faster than she ever had, instinct overriding doubt.
By noon, they were both sweaty, exhausted, and leaning against the back wall of the trauma bay like they might melt into it.
"I thought being a doctor was about saving lives," Meilin said between breaths.
"It is," Yichen replied. "Just not your own."
Back in Room 14, Li Jun was still awake.
He hadn't eaten much. Still wouldn't talk about what had happened. But when Meilin stepped in, he finally spoke.
"You believe me, don't you?"
"Yes."
He looked relieved.
"You could've left me," he said. "No name, no history. No one would've blamed you."
"Maybe," Meilin replied. "But I would've blamed myself."
He stared at her like she was some alien thing an actual decent person.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For dragging you into this."
She shrugged. "Too late."
That night, Meilin sat with Yichen outside on the emergency exit stairs.
They both had instant noodles again.
"Does this count as a third meal together?" she asked, blowing on the noodles.
Yichen looked amused. "Are you keeping score?"
"I just want to know when I'm officially part of your chaos club."
"Oh, that happened the second you stayed past your shift for a stranger."
She nudged him. "You're not as reckless as you act."
He blinked. "Don't ruin my reputation."
"I'm serious. You notice everything. You care. You hide it under sarcasm, but it's there."
He looked down at his noodles. "Don't go analyzing me, Dr. Lin. You might not like what you find."
She didn't answer.
But she didn't look away either.
At 2:15 AM, Room 14 triggered the emergency alarm.
Both Meilin and Yichen bolted from the staff room.
Inside, Li Jun was on the floor gasping, drenched in sweat, IV torn out.
"Chest pain," he managed. "It's back—"
Yichen moved fast. "Pulse's irregular. Could be a delayed cardiac event."
They hoisted him back into bed. Monitors beeped wildly..
Meilin steadied his hand. "You're okay. We've got you."
But Li Jun grabbed her wrist, hard. "Don't let them take me."
"No one's taking you."
"I saw him. In the hallway. Watching."
Yichen checked the monitor. "BP's crashing. We need cardio backup now."
Meilin hit the intercom. "Code Crimson Room 14."
Ten minutes later, Li Jun was stable again.
They ruled out a full cardiac arrest. Just a stress-induced arrhythmia. Likely from trauma. Fear. Exhaustion.
But the part that wouldn't leave Meilin's mind?
The surveillance footage showed no one in the hallway.
Except for one frame.
Half a second. Barely visible.
A dark figure just at the edge of the frame disappearing around the corner.
Meilin stared at the paused image, skin crawling.
"I think we just stepped into something bigger than medicine," she whispered.
Yichen looked at the screen, then at her.
"Yeah," he said. "And we're not ready."