**Chapter One - Lucky Escape**

The day had barely begun, but Ethan Cole was already running on fumes - and caffeine.

He jogged across the slick crosswalk leading to **St. Jude Memorial Hospital**, clutching a half-empty coffee and dodging raindrops like they were bullets. His scrubs were wrinkled, his lanyard badge flapped against his chest, and his brain felt fried from a 30-hour shift that had bled into today.

He was halfway across when the world tilted.

A horn blared. Tires shrieked.

Ethan jerked his head toward the sound - just in time to see a flash of gray fur dart into the street. A kitten. Then - someone else. A woman. She surged forward from the sidewalk in a blur of motion, coat flying behind her like a cape.

She didn't hesitate.

She dove.

The SUV skidded, missing her by a breath. Ethan's stomach dropped.

She hit the pavement hard, curled around the kitten like it was a priceless artifact, coat flared, knees scraping asphalt. The impact echoed louder than the horn.

The driver leaned out the window, white-knuckled and shouting. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"*Saving a life!*" she shouted back, voice high with adrenaline.

Ethan rushed toward her, heart hammering. "Hey! Are you hurt?"

She looked up, breathing fast. Wet hair clung to her cheek. Rain jeweled her lashes. But she was smiling - recklessly alive.

"I got him," she said, holding the kitten to her chest like a medal.

Ethan crouched beside her, suddenly short of breath for reasons that had nothing to do with running. "That was - absolutely insane."

She gave a breathless laugh. "Brave. Or maybe just catastrophic decision-making in real time."

Up close, she was radiant in the kind of way that snuck up on you: honest, flushed, and glowing with the aftershock of adrenaline. The kitten whimpered in her arms.

"I'm Ethan," he said. "Resident. And pretty qualified to tell you that you nearly broke every bone in your body."

She looked down. "Huh. Only scraped one."

A line of blood curled across her palm, raw and gravel-speckled.

"I can patch that up," he said. "Come inside. Through the staff door - no one will mind."

"You sure?"

He offered a grin. "I'm fairly sure I'd get in more trouble if I let you pass out out here."

She stood slowly, the kitten tucked securely into her coat. "Claire," she said. "Just a girl with terrible impulse control and a thing for stray cats."

---

The staff break room hummed with the low buzz of vending machines and the faint scent of burnt coffee. Claire sat on a metal chair, cradling the kitten like a fragile relic. Ethan knelt in front of her, disinfectant in hand.

"This'll sting," he warned gently.

She didn't flinch when he dabbed the scrape. "You do this a lot?"

"Too often. Cuts. Breaks. Sometimes hearts."

She arched an eyebrow. "That part in the curriculum?"

He gave her a tired smirk. "Elective."

Claire studied the room, her expression softening. "I wasn't planning to stop here this morning. Just visiting my dad - he's in recovery after bypass surgery."

Ethan's tone shifted. "That's a hard wait."

She nodded. "He's doing okay. But... hospitals feel heavy, you know?"

"I know."

They sat with that truth for a moment. The quiet between them wasn't awkward. It was grounding.

Then Claire glanced down at the kitten. "I think I'm going to call him Lucky."

"Fitting," Ethan said.

"You think he could visit my dad? For morale?"

"Technically? No. But if I just happened to not notice a suspiciously lumpy coat, that wouldn't be a violation of any? obvious rules."

She smiled then - wide and luminous, the kind of smile that made everything around her tilt just a little brighter. Ethan felt it catch somewhere in his chest.

"Thanks, Doctor Ethan."

He rose, still watching her. "Anytime, Cat Rescuer Claire."