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Yeah, except she wouldn't have the money or the time to be like Clark; Emily was afraid to even imagine how much the clothes she was wearing or that wide black stone ring cost.

Stop.

Why is she even thinking about that?

Because it's impossible not to think about Clark – there she is, right in front of her: sitting there, touching her fingers to her sharp cheekbones, smiling, curving her lips, arguing zealously, proving something; the round neckline of her T-shirt exposes her fragile shoulders with wings of collarbones; the thin chain of her bracelet glimmers with silver lights.

Gilmore laughs loudly, jumps off the table, picks up his robe, pats Emily on the shoulder, and, whistling a song, leaves the office; Clark looks questioningly at the nurse.

– …Documents.

Apparently, the neurosurgeon realizes that she hasn't been listening to much, so she repeats:

– I need to process you through the paperwork. Reinstatement, transfer and all that. Riley will talk to Dr. Harmon, he'll be your supervisor for a while. Harmon, not Riley, of course. We'll set you up as a teller, get you a pass, the right uniform, and even a cafe card.

– But the learning center…" Emily stuttered.

– The training center has nothing to do with our department," Clark cut her off. – If you knew that, Miss Johnson, you'd realize that Moss is just trying to scare you. You're late for your exam, of course, but you can at least count on an unnecessary piece of paper that you've taken the course. And if you're good," she grinned, "Harmon will make you retake the exam in winter.

The ball bounces up when it hits the ground.

He'll give you a retake.

A pass, a uniform, and a card.

That's not how it works, Emily tells herself, yesterday to cry and feel sorry for herself, and today to stand in front of Clark and feel the sun that has already cooled down.

She knows it is scary to trust in an autumn like this, it is dark and cold all around, and there are no miracles, but she wants to believe that all these last chances, all these magical moments are not given to the brave and strong, but to people like her: the frightened, the overcrowded, the overglued.

Factory breakdown.

An off the assembly line defect.

– Johnson? Are you in the clouds again?

– Why? – Emily bursts out.

Clark looks at her with a strange look – the same look she got in the locker room when she grabbed her arm.

You can't ignore me.

Yeah, that's not how it works: here comes Clark, tearing apart her goals and aspirations, sending her postulates to hell; rescuing her from her inner personal abyss, collapsing the timeline, pulling her out of her usual mode. Here's your card, form and pass, now you are who you wanted to be, so what are you unhappy about, Johnson…?

And it feels like Emily has hit the movies and now her drama is going to end, giving way to a smooth plot twist – now the that-something-wonder that the audience has been waiting for is going to happen.

But something isn't right. She feels it: there is no magic without real sacrifice, without tantrums and sobs and thoughts of bad things; there is no smoke without fire, her father used to say.

Clark doesn't take his eyes off her.

Emily moves blindly, groping in the darkness, unaware that the light at the end of the hallway will eat her up.

She's about to ask her, right now, and all the words get stuck in her throat, because to say something against it is to show herself to be an ungrateful, insensitive creature.

But she's wrong.

– Because I don't like you," Clark replies in a completely serious tone. – You irritate me, Johnson. That's why you're the one who's going to be next to me. Someone has to be, right?

– But…

– I'm not going to be the fairy godmother," the neurosurgeon cut him off. – I'm not going to mess with you, teach you, do your job. You want to throw yourself on the grenade? Go ahead. But if you screw up, Johnson, remember, this isn't a place to start over.

– But…

– Try to understand one thing. – Clark flips open his laptop. – To become someone, you have to do something.

She plunges into the computer, letting it be known that she's finished; and Emily keeps standing there looking at her, nervously tugging at the already annoying fabric of her turtleneck.

Go in a straight line, not to the bottom.

Figure out what you want.

She gathers more air in her chest.

– Dr. Clark…

The neurosurgeon turns his gaze to her.

– I want to work with you.

* * *

– The department has seven operating rooms. – Harmon's marching orders. – With two general surgeons, Davis and Gilmore, and two neurosurgeons, Clark and Neal, remember? We have two teams here, yes, but you should only care about yours. Remember: two surgeons, two neurosurgeons, and one chief. The chief is Moss, who's our neurologist, so.

– To go into surgery, you have to go through Powell or Higgins first. – He walks swiftly through the corridors of the department. – Then the neurologists. Yeah, let's go again: first the generalists, then the neurologists and finally the neurosurgeons, remember? This one's planned, it'll go in the plan, so you'll write it down in the chart and prepare it. You know how to prepare, right? You learned it, didn't you? If everything's good, you turn on the UV light for about -20 minutes, that's it, and you go and do the clothes. If you feel something's wrong, you tell the nurses to go. The orderlies, then, you take – or you call Mel, yes, Mel will always answer – and they have to do everything. By themselves, yes…