The sterile scent of disinfectant clung to Dr. Matthew Davis like a second skin as he strode through the bustling hospital corridors. At only thirty, he was already the facility's top surgeon, his rise meteoric, fueled by an intellect as sharp as his scalpel and an almost uncanny ability to thrive under pressure. Today, his focus was on a new resident he was training. "If I remember correctly we'll be giving this one surgery later," he murmured, his voice a low command as they approached Room 307.

Inside, a young patient, no older than sixteen, looked up from her bed. Her eyes, wide, met Matthew's. He offered a curt, professional nod, his attention already on the chart in his hands.

The young woman's fingers tightened around the edge of the bedsheet. "Am I going to be okay, Doctor?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Matthew glanced up, his expression neutral but his tone slightly gentler than before. "You have an excellent team looking after you. Now try to rest - you'll need your strength."