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“You’ll suffer naturally because you’re toxic,” my doctor husband sneered, blocking the nurses from performing a C-section for my giant 10-pound baby as revenge for his intern. I writhed in pain, clutching the bed rails until my knuckles turned white. When the grueling delivery finally ended, the heavy delivery room doors banged open. My husband staggered in, his face drained of color as he looked at the newborn chart, fell to the floor, and shrieked, “No… that’s impossible! Whose child is-“

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was Hannah Price, his prodigy intern who had been clinging to his shadow for the better part of six months. Hannah’s eyes were brimming with artificial tears; she was precariously balancing a tilted surgical tray, having just splashed a generous measure of saline down the front of her own uniform. She gnawed on her bottom lip, projecting the image continue reading …

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