Jennifer Green was used to chaos. Southern Memorial Hospital rarely slept, and neither did she. It was just past midnight when a man was wheeled in—tall, bloodied, but calm. Something about him felt... haunting. She sewed up a gunshot wound near his ribs, hands steady, eyes lingering. He introduced himself as Johnathan, voice like warm whiskey. Their interaction was brief but electric. As he left, he paused to look at her—like he already knew her.