Tara Williams looked at Victor Reynolds and was once again convinced: her attitude toward him had remained the same — not changed even slightly. And he, as always, met her with the same piercing, full of hostility gaze.

Once, a long time ago, before she foolishly got involved in that situation and ended up behind bars, Tara had been his mentor. He was just beginning his path in medicine, and she was already considered an experienced specialist. But as it turned out, the young man had no desire to correct his bad start. He constantly received remarks from her — and not without reason. And now, look at him! Not yet old, but already with a belly, barely fitting behind the desk. Head of the department! What kind of times are these!

— Tara Williams… — he dragged out, as if savoring every syllable of her name. — Why beat around the bush? We are both adults. I hired you. Yes, I did. Just to assert myself.

She smiled dryly, a little crookedly.

— Of course. You have always been a… um… smart woman. Moreover — a doctor. It’s clear that now no one will hire you according to your specialty. Even as a nurse — that’s almost a fantasy. But a position as an orderly — I can offer that. Starting tomorrow.

Victor spread a smug, unpleasant grin.

— Well, I expected nothing else.

— What did you want? With your record! You should be grateful even for that, Tara Williams.

— Grateful… When do I start?

— Find the head nurse; she will explain everything. All the best, Tara Williams.

Tara tried to walk out steadily, with a calm posture, not giving him a chance to enjoy her humiliation. And he was right, damn it! She really wasn’t being hired anywhere. Neither in her profession nor at all. It was all because of those cursed seven years in prison. For what she… yes, killed her own husband.

A banal story. Painfully ugly. And so old that it had long become part of her heart — or rather, its wound. She loved her work. She gave it everything — time, effort, thoughts. But her husband wasn’t satisfied. He wanted her whole life to revolve around him. At first, he humiliated her with words — cruel, cutting, worse than blows. Then came the beatings. For every late arrival at work — a hit. And each time stronger.

Gradually, Tara became anxious, jittery, easily falling into hysteria. Once, when her husband finally lost control and it seemed he was about to kill her, she grabbed the first thing she could. Without looking. And hit him with all her might on the head. It was a cast-iron frying pan. Heavy. Good. Tara always appreciated quality cookware — a paradox, but it was this love that saved her life.

No one believed what was happening at home later. A respected man was her husband: he smiled at everyone, helped shelters… But by the end of their life together, they judged her differently. Tara never told anyone about the beatings — it was too shameful. But her nervous breakdowns at work did not go unnoticed.

She served the full seven years. The full term. After release — no home, no money, no job. Her husband’s relatives quickly took the apartment. Her aunt took her in but warned immediately: “We won’t live together long.” She said it straight. Explained simply: she was used to living alone, liked order. If a thing was moved a little — she felt discomfort. They would quarrel not over anything important, just because they were close.

— You understand, Tara… — her aunt said, carefully adjusting a figurine on the shelf. — I love you, you are dear to me. But we won’t get along long. I need my order. We will quarrel.

Tara understood her aunt was right. And was grateful for her honesty. She promised to find a place of her own, get settled, not be a burden. For now — at least some job. Then — keep searching. Hope. Find. Surely.

Almost no one remained from those who worked at the hospital before. She heard about this almost in secret from Nurse Nora — an orderly with thirty years’ experience, who had been just Nurse Nora all those years.

— Because of that fool and thief! — the woman spat indignantly. — Because of him, everyone ran away!

Tara smiled gently:

— Nurse Nora, maybe he’s just a bit stupid and has a high opinion of himself?

— Not at all! You’ll see for yourself when you spend some time here! Lord, what’s going on in this world! They’re short of doctors, and a good doctor is an orderly?! Horrible, that’s the word!

With that, Nurse Nora grabbed a bucket and mop and went off to wash the floors, muttering under her breath and crossing herself at every step.

Tara Williams worked a little but soon realized Nurse Nora was not exaggerating. The hospital was in complete chaos. Not just a mess — a total collapse. People brought medicines themselves for their relatives in wards. Patients arrived at the hospital with their own bed linen.

As for the food in the cafeteria — better not to remember. Only one question haunted Tara: was it like this everywhere in the country? Or just here, in this hospital?

Once she talked with one of the doctors. He waved his hand tiredly:

— We’re at the peak. The real one.

— Why? What makes us different? When I worked here before, there was no such lawlessness!

— Because before there was something to steal. And now, when there’s nothing but the desire — that’s how this “order” happens.

— Yeah… And why does everyone stay silent? I’m not the first to hear about theft.

— You want to file a report? — the doctor smirked. — That’s stupid. No evidence. And the mess… it’s everywhere now. I wouldn’t be surprised if those at the top haven’t known for a long time what and to whom they allocate there.

Tara learned a lot of new things. For example, hospitals now had sponsors — people who donated money for various needs. She also heard that one of these “benefactors” was now lying in this very hospital, in the best ward. Food was prepared separately for him, a personal nurse was assigned… In general, everything as it should be — just so he wouldn’t guess that the rest of the facility was in real decline.

Although, judging by the nurses’ shrugs, maybe he didn’t care anymore what was going on. Because he… was dying. Doctors tried to fight, changed medications, tried new regimens. But there was no improvement. As Nurse Nora said:

— Poor man… He was a good person. And gave our Victor a hard time! And now he himself is lying down…

Tara couldn’t understand for a long time:

— If he has so much money, why doesn’t he just go abroad for treatment?

— Alexander Green, that very sponsor, seems to have given up on everything. He doesn’t need anything, Tara Williams. Doesn’t care about anything. And they say he’s not old — probably not even fifty yet.

In the evening, after lights out, when the ward was quiet, Tara decided to visit his room. She wanted to see this millionaire. Moreover, her interest was not just in a dying man — it was about something else entirely.

Back at the institute, Tara and her colleagues had worked hard to create a drug for this disease. Over time, those seriously engaged in the research started to drop out. By the time everyone had dispersed to their hospitals and clinics, this topic remained relevant only for her.

It was clear that promoting such a remedy to clinical trials alone was almost impossible. But Tara occasionally returned to her notes, reviewing calculations. There was nothing impossible there — just perfectly precise proportions of ordinary medications.

From these components came a kind of potent mixture, working exactly in the right direction. But it hadn’t been tested on anyone. So side effects were only a guess. Complete uncertainty.

— May I?

The man slowly turned his head:

— Yes.

Tara quietly entered, sat down nearby, and looked carefully at the patient. Yes, it all matched. All the symptoms corresponded to those they studied so many years ago.

— How do you feel?

— How do you think? — He looked at her, without his usual apathy. — You’re not a doctor?

— Well… not now.

— How’s that?

Tara smiled bitterly.

— Maybe I’ll tell you my story. So you don’t think worse of me than I deserve.

Curiosity flickered in the man’s eyes.

— I’m listening. Interesting.

She spoke for about twenty minutes before falling silent, having finished her story. The man sighed deeply.

— Yeah… A story worthy of any detective’s pen. And how do you work under Victor Reynolds?

— What do you think? — Tara sighed. — Honestly, he should have been fired long ago!

— But let others handle that? — a slight irony sounded in his voice.

— Why not you? You see what’s going on around?

— What I see suits me well. Although… I’d be interested to know: you didn’t come here just like that? Not to complain about the management?

— No! Of course not! Not for that. I don’t even know how to explain… Well…

Probably for the first time in ten years, Tara spoke so much. After telling her story, she felt tired. Her tongue felt dry in her mouth. The patient nodded to the bedside table:

— There’s water there. Really… very interesting. How long do your doctors give me?

— About a month. Sorry…

— Come on! I’m not a child. I want to live. And how soon will I die if your medicine doesn’t work?

— I don’t know… It might not work. But one thing we were sure of — it won’t harm you. And we’re sure of that now.

— So I have nothing to lose. Nothing at all. Right?

— Right.

— I got… a little, almost invisible chance. How many doses?

— Only three times, one week apart.

— I agree. What do you need?

— Money. We need to buy the drugs. They’re inexpensive, but… as you understand, I have nothing now.

— Give me the phone.

With a trembling hand, he dialed a number. About ten minutes later, Tara’s phone in her pocket beeped.

— Then see you tomorrow. I’m on the night shift again.

When Tara came to work in the evening, she was already expected. Not only Alexander — that dying “sponsor,” but also another person. She was immediately summoned to the head doctor’s office.

— What do you think you’re doing?! — Victor Reynolds jumped up. — I hired you out of pity! And you… Eh, I’m a fool! Naive! How could I trust a person who just came out of prison?! I barely convinced our benefactors not to send you back behind bars! Be thankful there are kind people! How could you — take medicines that were allocated to us?! Sell them! The patients were left without treatment! Get out! I’ll fire you on the spot!

He didn’t even let her say a word, just pushed her out of the office. Only now, like a cold shower, Tara realized: he took her precisely for this — to cover his dirty dealings. On a former convict.

Tears immediately filled her eyes. She rushed to her storeroom — her robe was hanging there. But suddenly she stopped. Alexander wasn’t to blame. He was waiting! And what if the medicine worked? Then he could bring order here. Tara literally burst into the ward, took a packet out of her pocket.

— We have only a few minutes!

— Wait… What happened? You’re crying?

— No time to explain! Your sponsor friends grabbed Victor by the throat, someone complained — and he quickly blamed me, as if I was going to take out and sell the medicines! Alexander, there’s no time! If they catch me here — they’ll just throw me out! Give me your hand! Don’t be afraid! The main thing is not to be afraid!

She carefully began administering the drug, silently hoping no one would interrupt. The very first time… should have some effect.

And just in time. Tara was already approaching her little room when a whole delegation appeared from around the corner. Victor was leading them. They headed straight to Alexander’s ward. They didn’t stay long. Apparently, the patient’s condition worsened.

They left, and Victor threw with obvious gloating:

— Our favorite patient won’t last long.

The men sighed and went about their business.

In the morning, Victor Reynolds went first thing to Alexander Green’s ward — everything had to be prepared. Collect tests, arrange paperwork. Death was near, and it was important to settle everything officially so that no one would have unnecessary questions later.

He entered — and froze like a statue. Even his mouth dropped in amazement: Alexander was sitting on the bed and… drinking tea! For a whole month, if not more, he hadn’t been able even to sit.

— Hello, Victor Reynolds!

— Hello… — the doctor mechanically rubbed his eyes, as if he didn’t believe his own words.

— No need to worry like that. Can you send an orderly? Or better a male orderly — I’d like to take a shower, but I can’t manage on my own yet.

Victor silently nodded, stunned, and practically slipped out the door.

Tara nervously paced the room back and forth. Today marked exactly one week since she gave Alexander the first injection. What if he didn’t come? Does that mean the treatment didn’t work? Or… he simply lost interest?

She started to dress, then undress again, unable to find peace. Her nerves were failing. Finally, her aunt couldn’t stand it:

— Tara! Sit down already! Stop pacing! You’re not a child! You said yourself — a serious person, a businessman. If he forgot the address — he’ll find it. He’ll find out from the hospital. So sit and wait! And just pray that everything goes well. Otherwise, next time they’ll put you away for twenty years! Why did you even get involved?!

No sooner had her aunt finished her tirade than a car abruptly braked at the entrance. A man jumped out from behind the wheel, went around, opened the passenger door and helped someone out.

— It’s him! Auntie, it’s him! He’s walking by himself! Do you see?!!

Her aunt smiled, though she tried to keep a stern face so Tara wouldn’t decide to stay with her forever. But in her heart, she caught herself thinking: how much easier it was with Tara nearby. Here everything was always ready, cozy, clean… and you could hug, listen, and just talk.

— I see… — she said quietly. — Well done, Tara…

After the second injection, Alexander stayed with them almost the whole day. They drank tea, talked. For the third injection, he arrived early in the morning and stayed until late evening. He told how Victor was “seated” in his place, how hospital rules were slowly beginning to change.

Before leaving, he was a little embarrassed and asked:

— Tara… may I invite you to a restaurant?

She looked at him. Then quietly said:

— Did you forget something? I… served time.

Alexander smiled:

— I used to steal lunches from classmates’ backpacks as a kid.

Tara looked at him surprised… and suddenly laughed. Really, heartily. She hadn’t laughed like that for a long time.

— Well… then, of course, yes.

And her aunt, hearing this, looked away toward the window.

— Thank you… — she whispered. — Good girl, Tara… She deserves happiness.