Chase laughed. “How about if I add lunch—or dinner. Or, hell, breakfast?”

“How about we decide what to call it if we actually ever manage to get out of here.”

“I plan to make that a priority,” Chase said steadily. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Lily blushed. “So have I, but we both have work first.”

“So, how are you liking things so far?”

“The medical work is pretty straightforward,” Lily said pensively. “It’s a lot like family practice. Nothing urgent most of the time, just the usual common problems in a place like this. Rashes and bug bites and sprains, the things active kids always run into. Not that I’m complaining—I’m perfectly happy not dealing with much in the way of serious problems.”

“Big change from what you’re used to,” Chase said.

Lily nodded. “Even before the last couple of years, big-city ERs were pretty much trauma units twenty-four seven, even when the cases weren’t actually traumas. Patients presented with more and more serious problems, mostly because there were fewer and fewer primary care physicians to see them, and the health care system forced them to do less and less. The ER has become the only source of care for many people, so it was pretty much nonstop.” She shook her head. “And then the pandemic hit and everything came to a screeching halt. The work turned into something…unrecognizable.”

“And all of you in the city were really the first in the US to get hit in a big way.”

“Yes. We had no idea what was happening at first—a trickle of cases turned into an avalanche practically overnight.”

That haunted look appeared in Lily’s eyes, and Chase reached for her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Looking surprised at the contact, Lily nevertheless turned her hand over until her fingers brushed Chase’s palm. The sensation shot through Chase like lightning, leaving her just a little breathless. She sat very still to avoid breaking the tenuous connection.

“No, you shouldn’t be. It’s just there isn’t very much to say. None of us had ever experienced anything like it before, had no idea from one day to the next how bad it would get or when it would stop, and there was just this constant…lack. Lack of everything. Knowledge of what to do, understanding of the disease…” She gave a bitter laugh. “Believe me, there’s nothing much worse for a physician than not understanding what they’re up against. Except failure.” She looked away. “And there was a lot of that.”

“I’m sorry,” Chase said, “that you went through it, and that I brought it up today.”

“It’s part of us all, now, isn’t it?” Lily said. “But we’re here, and we’re moving on. Even if it takes longer for some of us.” She moved her hand from Chase’s, but her smile was bright and her eyes clear again. “Besides, I’d rather hear about what you’ll be doing in the next few days.”

“I’ve got a list of messages that will take me an hour to get through, the session with the campers to go over what they’ll need for their first wilderness outing tomorrow, and then seeing to any callouts along with my routine patrol.”