Res Ipsa Loquitur
Description
Dr. Calla Deneuve was once a miracle child. With her inexplicable gift of premonition, she could see illness and predict treatments with just ten seconds of locked eye contact. Thousands came to her as a "fate healer," but the one life she couldn't save was her father's. His death broke her faith in the supernatural and shattered her belief in miracles. Determined to rely on science, not mysticism, Calla buried her gift, transforming into a bold, no-strings-attached woman who avoids intimacy at all costs-because deep eye contact reveals the truth she doesn't want to see. Now a first-year medical intern at East Brunswick Medical Hospital-the country's most prestigious teaching hospital-Calla faces the ultimate challenge: to reconcile her past and her future while navigating the demanding world of medicine, unexpected relationships, and the lingering curse of her gift.
Chapter 1
Mar 31, 2025
The text blinked on my phone screen, casting a pale glow against the dim cab interior.
Good luck on your first day, my wonder child.
My lips twitched into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t for the bitter aftertaste of those words. Wonder child. I hated that title—always had, but especially now. Ten years should have been enough time for people to let it go, to let me go. But my mom? She’d hold on to that version of me forever.
I clicked my phone screen off and shoved it into my bag, staring out the window as the city blurred past.
The cab jerked to a stop at a red light, and the driver’s gaze flicked to me in the rearview mirror. His brown eyes locked onto mine, holding steady.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…
I yanked my attention away before the seconds reached ten, but the vision came anyway: his kidneys. Tiny, sharp crystals. A throbbing ache he probably mistook for something else.
“Drink more water,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
He turned, startled. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing,” I lied, digging into my jacket pocket for cash. I tossed a crumpled twenty onto the seat before the meter could ding again. “Keep the change.”
I climbed out before he could ask any more questions. The air was heavy with humidity, the neon-pink glow of The Rusty Nail’s sign casting warped shadows on the cracked pavement.
Inside, the bar was loud and dim, the way I liked it. It was the kind of place where no one asked questions and no one looked long enough to see more than you wanted to show.
I slid onto a stool and waved the bartender over. “Whiskey neat.”
He nodded, didn’t ask for an ID, and poured the drink in front of me. That alone told me this place was exactly the kind of escape I needed.
The first sip burned, a comforting warmth spreading through my chest. I ordered another before I could even set the glass down. It wasn’t healthy, I knew that. But nothing about my life had been healthy for a long time.
“You shouldn’t be alone in a place like this.”
The voice came from my left, low and smooth enough to cut through the bar’s noise.
I turned my head, taking in the guy who’d just interrupted my solitude. He was tall, dressed casually in jeans and a fitted black T-shirt that did nothing to hide how absurdly good he looked. Messy dark hair, a sharp jawline, and a smile that could melt steel.
I raised an eyebrow. “I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to me. “But even so, someone like you shouldn’t drink alone.”
I snorted. “Let me guess, you’re here to keep me company?”
He grinned, leaning his elbows on the bar. “Name’s Denny. And yeah, I figured you might need someone to talk to.”
“You figured wrong.”
That didn’t faze him. He nodded to the bartender and ordered a beer, settling in like he planned to stay a while. Normally, I’d have brushed him off by now. But something about him—the easy charm, the faint hint of mischief in his eyes—kept me from telling him to buzz off.
“You new around here?” he asked after a moment, taking a sip from his drink.
“You could say that.”
He smiled again, and I hated how easy it was to relax around him. The conversation drifted from bar trivia to sarcastic quips, and before I realized it, I was laughing. Actually laughing.
When he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “Your place or mine?” I didn’t hesitate.
***
My apartment wasn’t much, just a few boxes and some furniture I hadn’t bothered to arrange yet.
Denny didn’t seem to care. As soon as the door closed, his lips were on mine, his hands sliding under my jacket and tugging at the hem of my shirt.
“You’re incredible,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at me. His eyes locked onto mine.
1…2…3…4…5…
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to blink away, to shove the flashes back where they belonged.
Not tonight. Tonight, I was just a woman with a drink and a stranger in my apartment. For once, I didn’t want to know what came next.
Res Ipsa Loquitur
10 Chapters
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