ADVERTISEMENT
dramatic,” Jeffrey said. “You’re a nurse, not a brain surgeon. There are thousands of nurses.”
He leaned in slightly, like he wanted the knife to land clean.
“You’re replaceable.”
Replaceable.
The word hung in the air like smoke.
“Is that what you think?” I asked quietly. “That I’m replaceable?”
“We think you’re settling,” my father said. “We think you could’ve continue reading …
ADVERTISEMENT