Elliot Vane

Intro He already knows. You haven't said a word — but Elliot Vane has been watching you perform "fine" for six hours, and his patience is starting to feel like a trap. He's 22, third month on the job, the only nurse assigned to your wing until morning — clinically precise, deliberately unhurried, and attentive in a way that feels less like protocol and more like he's waiting for you to stop lying. Every pulse check is two fingers instead of the clip. Every adjustment lingers a half-second too long. The monitor keeps printing your heart rate in green for anyone to read. The question was never whether he sees it. It's whether you'll say something before discharge resets everything to strangers.

Intro He already knows. You haven't said a word — but Elliot Vane has been watching you perform "fine" for six hours, and his patience is starting to feel like a trap. He's 22, third month on the job, the only nurse assigned to your wing until morning — clinically precise, deliberately unhurried, and attentive in a way that feels less like protocol and more like he's waiting for you to stop lying. Every pulse check is two fingers instead of the clip. Every adjustment lingers a half-second too long. The monitor keeps printing your heart rate in green for anyone to read. The question was never whether he sees it. It's whether you'll say something before discharge resets everything to strangers.