The morning sun broke through the leaves, casting gold onto the courtyard bricks. Zayra stood in the center, white coat folded neatly over her arm, stethoscope around her neck, and a single cupcake in hand.
She was 27 today. And officially done.
A breeze danced past her, warm and gentle. Her name had just been called during the final pinning ceremony, and somewhere in her chest, the weight of two years of sacrifice began to lift.
She took a quiet breath, looked up at the sky, and smiled.
"I did it," she whispered. "We did it, Lola."
Behind her, someone cleared their throat.
Dr. Cecilia.
In her usual pressed slacks, Crisp white lab coat over a tailored blouse, and a calm presence that never aged.
Dr. Cecilia: "Happy birthday, Nurse Villamor."
Zayra turned, grin blooming instantly.
Zayra: "You remembered."
Dr. Cecilia: "Of course I did. I also brought you something."
She handed Zayra a small velvet box. Inside was a pin—golden, shaped like a globe, with a nurse's cap engraved on top.
Dr. Cecilia: "This was mine. From the first time I served as a field doctor overseas. It's yours now."
Zayra blinked rapidly, emotions thick in her throat.
Zayra: "Dr. Cecilia… I can't—"
Dr. Cecilia: "You already have. You've earned it."
They sat together on a bench near the edge of the courtyard, the sound of soft laughter and camera shutters in the distance.
Dr. Cecilia sipped from a thermos. Then, gently:
Cecilia: "I'm leaving. In three months."
Zayra turned sharply. "Leaving?"
Dr. Cecilia nodded. "Back to Moscow. Bravta Arms has expanded operations in Eastern Europe. My husband's asking me to rejoin full-time. He's finally admitted he can't do it without someone who actually cares about the people behind the numbers."
Zayra: "That's big."
Dr. Cecilia: "It is. Which is why I want you with me."
Zayra's heart skipped. "What?"
Dr. Cecilia: "I'm offering you a job, Zayra. A full-time nursing position. But more than that—you'd be my assistant. Clinical oversight. Patient coordination. Ground operations, when needed."
Zayra stared at her, the world narrowing to the space between them.
Dr. Cecilia: "The salary is generous—plus housing, benefits, and a travel allowance. You'll work hard, but you'll grow faster than you can imagine."
Silence. Zayra's thoughts raced—to her future, and the unopened bill on her nightstand back home.
Her grandmother's hospital stays.
Medications. A private nurse.
The kind of care she couldn't afford.
Zayra looked down at the pin again, her fingers trembling slightly.
Zayra: "Yes."
Dr. Cecilia blinked. "Are you sure?"
Zayra nodded, slowly but firmly. "I need to do this—for my grandmother. And for myself."
A pause, full of understanding.
Zayra: "But also… because I believe in your kind of medicine. The kind that slows down and remembers the human side of it all."
Dr. Cecilia's smile was proud, and a little sad.
Dr. Cecilia: "Then it's settled. Three months from now. I'll make the arrangements."
They sat for a while longer in the garden, not as teacher and student—but as women who had walked through fire and come out the other side.
And in that golden morning light, a chapter quietly closed…
…as another one, waiting across the world, began to open.