Chapter Fourteen

[A/N] Just a friendly reminder, Professor Montgomery may say and do things that could cause you to dislike her. However, please keep in mind that she will eventually warm up to Valentina.

Friday;

This week has flown by in a blur, and I'm beyond grateful the weekend is almost here. Right now, I'm sitting in the library, attempting to make progress on a research project.

I had just come from Prof. Martin's lecture, which, surprisingly, was more fun than expected. He explained the project in great detail, making sure everyone was on the same page—going over it multiple times just to be sure we understood. It's a bit reassuring, really, knowing we weren't left confused or lost before being set free to work on our own.

My laptop sat open in front of me, with several books spread out across the table. My notebook, filled with hurried, scribbled notes, lay beside me as I stared at the screen, trying to gather my thoughts. This project is due next Friday, and Prof. Martin gave us a choice to work alone or in pairs. Naturally, Lea and I chose to team up. Why suffer through this alone when we could tackle it together?

Lea isn't here right now; she's off at Midnight Mocha grabbing coffee and a slice of cake for both of us. A little caffeine and sugar boost is just what I need to keep going. The library is quiet, the perfect place to concentrate, but all I can think about is how much I'd rather be anywhere else right now.

The quiet of the library was interrupted by the soft hiss of the sliding doors. Instinctively, I looked up, expecting to see Lea with our coffee and cake, but instead, it was Prof. Montgomery. Her face was set in her usual expression—irritation carved into every feature, as if being here annoyed her deeply.

For a split second, she locked eyes with me, and I felt a familiar chill. It was brief, but long enough for my stomach to drop before she broke the gaze and strode toward the back of the library. She settled at a desk far from everyone, as if even the air around us was beneath her.

How does someone never smile? I swear she has three moods—irritated, angry, and disgusted. Maybe those moods are just reserved for me, given my impressive track record of almost mowing her down and, let's not forget, nearly killing her mother in a wheelchair stunt.

I mean, we were just having a little fun. Doesn't she understand the concept of fun? Definitely not. She's too perpetually angry to ever know what that feels like.

The library doors slid open again, and this time it was Lea. She caught sight of me and grinned, practically bouncing over to our table before plopping down beside me with dramatic flair.

"Tada!" she announced, wiggling her eyebrows as she revealed my prize—a slice of cheesecake and an iced coffee. The cheesecake looked heavenly, and I couldn't help but smile. "Thank you," I said, taking a grateful sip of the iced coffee. It was cold, sweet, and exactly what I needed to get through this project.

Now, I know the library has a strict 'no food or drink' policy, but sometimes, you've got to break the rules for the sake of your sanity. We were being discreet, anyway. Hopefully.

"Alright," Lea said, rubbing her hands together like an eager schemer, "Let's get started on this stupid project."

I nodded, flipping through the notes I had jotted down, and pulled up a few helpful websites on my laptop. "I've got some good leads," I said, sliding the notebook toward her.

Lea grabbed her own laptop from her bag, set it on the table, and cracked her knuckles before diving in. She opened up a blank document, fingers ready to fly across the keys. "Let's do this," she muttered, her face already scrunched up in concentration.

We were making good progress—comparing notes, bouncing ideas off each other, and feeling pretty accomplished. We'd also managed to stealthily devour most of our cakes without drawing attention. But, just as I took another sneaky bite, the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat made us both freeze.

Lea and I slowly turned around, eyes locking onto the stern face of the librarian. Her disapproving glare could burn a hole through us. Without saying a word, she pointed first at our cakes and iced coffees, then at the door—a silent but clear demand to take our forbidden treats elsewhere.

"Bro, it's not like we're making a mess!" Lea groaned, motioning toward the spotless table. Not a single crumb had fallen, and our drinks sat perfectly still, not even the faintest ring of condensation in sight.

The librarian wasn't moved. She crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. "I don't care. There are rules, and you follow them—whether you make a mess or not."

Before we could come up with some witty comeback, another voice cut through the moment, low and cold. "She told you to get out, so get the hell out."

I turned, my stomach dropping as I saw Prof. Montgomery standing a few feet away, books in hand, looking every bit as irritated as usual. Of course it had to be her. Why wouldn't it be?

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, exasperated. Why couldn't Prof. Montgomery just mind her own business? Of course, she caught it instantly. "I don't like it when people roll their eyes at me," she snapped, her gaze narrowing, scrutinizing every movement like a hawk circling its prey.

Embarrassed, I quickly looked down at the floor, heat rushing to my face. I felt too flustered to respond, but Lea wasn't going to let it slide. She scoffed, "We didn't make a mess, get off our backs."

Prof. Montgomery raised an eyebrow, her expression darkening. Without warning, she slammed her books down onto our table with a loud thud that echoed through the quiet library. "Fine," she said icily, "if you don't want to leave, I'll make sure you don't have to."

Before either of us could react, she snatched up our coffees and half-eaten cakes and unceremoniously tossed them into the trash.

Lea and I stared at her, jaws hanging open in shock. Did she seriously just do that? Is she even allowed to do that?

"There," Prof. Montgomery said smugly, brushing her hands off like she'd just solved the world's biggest problem. "Now, you don't have to leave." She snatched her books back off the table, gave us one last withering look, and strode back to her usual spot at the back of the library, leaving us in stunned silence.

Lea and I locked eyes, both of us too stunned to speak. It felt like time had frozen, the absurdity of what just happened hanging thick in the air. The librarian, with a satisfied smirk plastered on her face, simply turned and walked away, leaving us alone to grapple with our shock.

Lea was the first to snap out of it, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Dude, that was fucked up!" she whisper-yelled, her voice tight with anger. She shook her head, clearly fuming. "She is such a hateful woman!"

I threw my hands up in frustration, unable to find the words to express how unfair it was. "She owes us coffee!" Lea muttered, shooting invisible daggers in Prof. Montgomery's direction. The professor, oblivious or uncaring, was hunched over her desk, scribbling in her notebook as if nothing had happened.

We both fell silent after that, the tension slowly easing as we turned back to our project. There wasn't much else to say, and there was no point in dwelling on it. Begrudgingly, we buried ourselves in the work, though every so often, I'd catch Lea glancing back at Prof. Montgomery with a glare, her frustration still simmering just beneath the surface.

As the time crept closer to my last lecture of the day, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Lab Skills with Prof. Montgomery—just my luck, especially after the whole scene in the library. The thought of skipping briefly crossed my mind, but I knew better.

Lea waved me off with a reassuring smile, promising to keep working on our project. "Good luck," she mouthed as I turned to leave. I sighed and gave her a weak thumbs up before stepping out into the hallway, my footsteps echoing as I made my way to the lecture hall.

When I arrived, I slid into my usual seat midway down the rows of desks, hoping I could blend into the crowd unnoticed. I pulled out my notebook and pen, tapping my fingers against the edge of the desk, the rhythm a poor distraction from the growing tension inside me. Each tick of the clock felt heavier as I waited.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, and Prof. Montgomery entered with her usual air of frustration. She moved with a kind of controlled impatience, tossing her handbag onto the desk as if it had personally offended her. She didn't say a word at first, just rifled through her things while the room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

I sighed internally, bracing myself for what I knew would be a long and draining class. Her mood radiated off her in waves, making me regret every second I hadn't skipped. I muttered under my breath, "Give me strength," before straightening in my chair, preparing to endure the inevitable scrutiny that seemed to follow me whenever she was around.

✿

Saturday;

Saturday mornings at the hospital were always a whirlwind. I found myself speed-walking through the hallways, balancing trays of food for patients. Running was strictly against the rules, but I was moving fast enough to break a sweat. The usual faces greeted me as I made my rounds. The elderly man who always barked for water got his cup with an extra bright smile today—progress.

Just as I handed off the last tray, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Dr. Bryson, looking as calm as ever despite the chaos surrounding us, gave me a nod. "Valentina, can you go help your aunt in the pit?"

"Sure thing," I said, flashing him a quick smile before heading toward the emergency pit. My pace quickened, weaving between nurses and patients until I reached the bustling corner of the hospital.

The pit was as frantic as usual. My aunt was hunched over a patient, carefully suturing a nasty gash on his arm. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and the steady movements of her hands told me she was almost done. I stepped closer, trying not to disturb her rhythm. "Dr. Bryson said you needed me?" I asked softly, watching her finish the final stitch.

She glanced up briefly, her usual no-nonsense look softening just a bit. "Yes, grab some gloves and help me clean up. It's going to be one of those days."

I pulled a nearby chair closer and slipped on a pair of gloves, my eyes drawn to the deep gash on the patient's other arm. It wasn't pretty—raw, jagged, and bleeding through the gauze. I prepped the disinfectant, the sting of antiseptic already on my nose.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice casual as I began cleaning around the wound with gentle precision.

The patient, a middle-aged man with a gruff exterior, sighed deeply. "Fell off my motorcycle," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. The scrapes on his face and arms told the rest of the story.

I nodded, focusing on the task at hand. "Ouch," I said quietly, my hands working carefully over his injured skin.

Across the gurney, my aunt glanced up from her finished sutures, wiping her hands on a towel. "How's your day going?" she asked, a tired smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Not too bad, considering it's still early," I chuckled, flashing a grin in her direction.

She nodded, the weight of the morning already visible in her eyes. "Feels like I've been here for hours," she sighed, rolling her shoulders back. "The pit's been nonstop. I keep hoping my shift's ending, but nope." She laughed lightly, though the exhaustion was clear in her voice.

I smiled sympathetically, continuing to work on the patient's wound. "One of those days, huh?"

She let out a soft chuckle, pushing a stray hair out of her face. "You have no idea."

After helping my aunt with a few more patients, I noticed the clock ticking closer to lunch. It was becoming a ritual by now—grabbing something quick and heading to Elizabeth's room to eat together.

I made a beeline for the cafeteria and scanned the options, settling on a chicken mayo sandwich and a Coke Zero. As usual, I picked up something for Elizabeth too, adding an extra pudding cup to the tray with a smirk. She always loved those.

On my way to her room, I slowed down as I approached the door. The muffled sounds of an argument reached my ears, halting my steps. "Absolutely not!" came a sharp, irritated voice that I recognized instantly—Prof. Montgomery. "I've made my choice, and I'm not going to change it."

I winced at the coldness in her tone, standing just outside the door now. Elizabeth's voice, soft yet firm, replied, "Do it for me. You'll thank me for it one day."

Curiosity bubbled up in me, but I hesitated. I wasn't sure if I should barge in or pretend I hadn't heard anything. Whatever was happening, it seemed serious, and it definitely wasn't the warm, friendly lunchtime I had envisioned.

Elizabeth's eyes softened the moment she saw me standing in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up her face. It was like a switch had flipped. Prof. Montgomery noticed the change and turned sharply, her gaze locking onto mine with a level of intensity that made my breath catch.

She stood abruptly from the couch, her posture stiff as she marched toward me. "What do you want?" she snapped, her tone as icy as ever, causing me to swallow nervously.

"I, uh... well I—" My voice stumbled over the words, and I saw the irritation flare in her eyes as she rolled them dramatically.

"Spit it out," she said, her voice laced with impatience.

I cleared my throat and straightened up, trying to regain some composure. "I brought Elizabeth some lunch," I said, though the words wobbled a little. Her eyes flickered down to the tray in my hands, taking in the sandwich and pudding cup.

She let out a noncommittal hum before, without warning, snatching the tray from my hands. The door slammed shut in my face before I could even react.

I stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the closed door. Well... that just happened.

Pursing my lips, I turned on my heel and headed back to the cafeteria, the echo of the door slamming still fresh in my mind. So much for a peaceful lunch with Elizabeth. Looks like it's just me today.

As I walked, the familiar sound of footsteps caught up with me, and soon my aunt appeared by my side, falling in step effortlessly. "What's with the long face?" she asked, her eyes immediately catching sight of the sandwich in my hand. "Chicken mayo!" she gasped dramatically, snatching half of it with a playful grin before I could protest.

"Just a long day," I sighed, entering the bustling cafeteria. We found an empty table and sat down, the noise around us a comforting backdrop of clattering trays and light chatter.

I bit into the other half of the sandwich while my aunt reached for my Coke Zero, casually popping the tab and taking a sip. "You do know you can leave anytime you want, right?" she said, eyeing me knowingly over the rim of the can.

"Yeah, I know," I scoffed, half smiling. "But I can't just leave you to suffer alone."

She smirked and patted me on the shoulder as she stood up, the warmth of her touch a brief comfort. "You do realize you're my favorite human being, right?" she teased, flashing me a smile.

"Naturally," I chuckled, watching her walk away. And just like that, I was left alone with my thoughts, the cafeteria noise now a dull hum in the background.

For the next few hours, I busied myself with whatever the nurses needed—helping clean rooms, bandaging wounds, and stitching up cuts. It was routine, but it kept me moving, kept my mind off things.

As visiting hours came to an end, I made my way toward Elizabeth's room. I knew Prof. Montgomery wouldn't be there, which was a relief. No need to walk on eggshells today.

I knocked lightly before entering. Elizabeth looked up from the book she was reading, her face lighting up with a smile that seemed to chase away the sterile coldness of the hospital. "Val, dear!" she greeted warmly, her voice lifting the mood instantly. "Come, sit!" She motioned to the couch beside her, closing her book and setting it aside.

I sank into the cushions, the familiar coziness of the room a welcome change from the rest of the day. Before I could even start a conversation, Elizabeth's smile softened into something more apologetic. "I want to apologize for my daughter's behavior," she said, shaking her head slightly, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and love.

I waved her off, trying to keep things light. "Elizabeth, you don't have to apologize," I assured her with a smile of my own. "It's really not a big deal."

But she wasn't convinced, her expression tightening a bit. "Johanna has always had... difficulty with her attitude," she sighed. "I'm trying to get her to smile more, to loosen up, but you've seen how well that's going." She let out a little laugh, but it was tinged with sadness.

I glanced around the room, noticing how neatly Elizabeth kept everything, as if her personal space was a reflection of the peace she wished her daughter could find. "She's just... intense," I replied, trying to find the right words. "But she's lucky to have you reminding her of what really matters."

Elizabeth gave me a soft, knowing smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'll keep trying," she said quietly.

I shifted on the couch, finding a comfortable spot as I glanced over at Elizabeth, who was now resting with her hands folded gently on her lap. Her peaceful demeanor made me feel at ease, but there was a question that had been sitting at the back of my mind for a while now. I bit my lip, debating whether or not to ask, before finally speaking up.

"Elizabeth, can I ask you something?" I began, my voice tentative. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes soft and encouraging. "How come your surname is Jones?" I asked, trying not to sound too invasive. "I just—I noticed your daughter has a different last name, and I've been curious."

Elizabeth's lips curled into a warm, understanding smile, as if she had been asked this before. She let out a small sigh, her gaze falling to her hands for a moment. "I remarried," she explained gently. "A few years after my first husband passed away. His death... it was hard on both of us, but especially Johanna. She never really accepted my second husband, and when we got married, she refused to take his last name." Her eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, but she shrugged it off gracefully. "I kept Jones because it just felt right, you know?"

"Ah," I nodded, processing the story. It explained a lot. "That makes sense. Thanks for sharing." I smiled back at her, hoping she knew how much I appreciated her openness. But sensing it might be a heavy topic, I shifted gears. "So, how are you feeling today? Do you need anything?"

Elizabeth shook her head, her smile returning with full warmth. "No, dear, I'm fine. Your company is all I need."

The room brightened as we began to chat casually, and she started sharing stories about her life before she got sick. Her face lit up as she recounted her love for traveling—places she'd seen, people she'd met, and how she always sought out new adventures. I could almost see her younger self, vibrant and fearless, wandering through cobblestone streets in Europe or taking a boat ride in some far-off country.

"You must have some amazing stories," I said, leaning in, fully captivated by her tales. "I would've loved to travel like that."

Elizabeth chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with nostalgia. "Oh, I have a few," she said with a wink. "Maybe one day, when you're ready, I'll share them all."

Before long, it was time for me to go. With a gentle smile, I bid Elizabeth farewell, promising I'd come back to visit her as soon as I could. Her face softened as she waved me off, and I could still see the warmth in her eyes as I turned to leave.

I met up with my aunt in the reception area, where she immediately slung her arm around my shoulders. "Let's go home and stuff our faces with the unhealthiest food we can find," she announced with a grin, pulling me close.

Now that was an offer I couldn't refuse. As we made our way towards the hospital doors, we ran into Dr. Bryson. His face lit up when he spotted us. "Grace," he said warmly, flashing a bright smile, "You have a wonderful night."

"You too, Doctor," my aunt replied, her voice carrying that casual friendliness she always seemed to muster. She gave him a quick smile before continuing her path, tugging me along with her, though I couldn't miss the slight falter in her step.

I raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, unable to resist. "You like him, don't you?" I teased, wiggling my eyebrows with a mischievous grin.

"What? No!" she scoffed, the denial immediate, but not fast enough to hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Mhm, whatever you say," I chirped, smirking as we strolled through the parking lot. The cool evening air brushed against us as we made our way to the car, but my thoughts lingered on my aunt.

I was happy for her. After everything she's done for me—raising me, sacrificing her time, making sure I never felt alone—it was about time she focused on herself for once. She'd always put me first, but maybe now she could start doing things for her own happiness. Even if it started with a friendly smile exchanged between her and a certain doctor.