They had spoken earlier that morning while Deven was nibbling her way through an insipid breakfast of oatmeal, eggs, and fruit. Kennedy had said she would be leaving within the hour to pick her up and she would take her to a brunch spot for something more appetizing. Kennedy had texted a quick on my way message at around eight-thirty. Deven’s eyes lifted to the wall clock, the hands nearing noon. She was upset, rightfully so, but concern was beginning to weigh in.

The knock at the door dispelled all worry and Deven sighed in relief. “About time,” she called rising as the door open. Not Kennedy, but Janice, the nurse director and Deven’s supervisor. Janice hadn’t bothered to come by at all so her visit now was a little bit of a surprise. Not that Deven should’ve expected niceties from her.

Janice had the ‘short-woman-complex;’ her direct demeanor often misconstrued as callous, no thanks to her military background. But she seemed to wear her bitch-badge with honor. Deven had never seen Janice so much as crack a smile, which was sometimes off-putting given their line of work. But as she stood just inside the doorway, Deven noticed she seemed softer, somewhat pleasant.

“Hey, how are you doing this morning?” She continued to stand by the door, as if waiting on permission to approach.

“I’m okay. A little sore, of course.”

“Of course.” Janice folded her hands in front of her, but still, she didn’t budge from her position. “Listen, I wanted to talk with you about your leave options.”

And there it was, the bitch-badge was back on display. Deven should’ve known it was more to her visit than just compassion. “Okay, what about it?”

“Do you need some time off?”

The question seemed insensitive given the circumstances. But if it was left up to Janice, she probably would have Deven clock in at that moment and help with patient intake. Deven counted to five to keep her temper in check. She didn’t want to lose her job for cussing out her boss. “Yes, I was going to take some time.”

“How much?”

One. Two. Three. “I hadn’t thought about it honestly, Janice.”

“Okay, well you don’t have much PTO. Maybe only a few hours, so . . .” She trailed off for Deven to comment. She didn’t. They both knew Janice could approve sick leave at her discretion. Now whether she would or not, was a different story. Some of the nurses had already said Janice could go rampant on her power-trip sometimes, throwing around her authority as she saw fit. So now, Deven didn’t know if the conversation was meant for her to ask, grovel, beg, or all of the above.