Cassia stood in front of the mirror in the on-call room, her white coat hanging untouched on the hook beside her. She couldn’t bring herself to put it on. Not after what happened yesterday in his office. Her fingers still twitched with the ghost of his gloves. Her thighs still pressed together at night, trying to recreate the feeling of his precision touches. Nothing worked. Not her fingers. Not the shower. Not the pillow she had bitten down on to muffle her cries of need.

She hadn’t ...