In the afternoon, Ruben asked Leanne to consult one of Sandra's patients.
The patient had been battling what was believed to be uveitis for six months, but instead of getting better, the condition had deteriorated.
After reviewing the lab reports, Leanne noted that the cytokine analysis of the ocular fluid showed an interleukin-10 to interleukin-6 ratio greater than one.
"I suspect it's not uveitis we're dealing with, but primary intraocular lymphoma."
The symptoms of intraocular lymphoma could closely mimic those of uveitis, leading to misdiagnosis, a phenomenon known as a masquerade syndrome caused by a tumor.
Sandra immediately got defensive. "Hey, watch what you're saying. Are you suggesting I misdiagnosed?"
"You're not that important. I'm just following the data," Leanne replied, her mood as gloomy as the weather outside, blunt in her assessment. "If it was primary lymphoma, we've lost six months that could have been crucial for this patient."
"You!" Sandra bristled, ready to explode, but Ruben silenced her with a look and asked Leanne, "What do you suggest we do?"
Given the urgency of the situation, Leanne didn't hold back. "I recommend a vitrectomy on the left eye to perform a histological and cytological examination of the vitreous humor to confirm if it's a tumor." Ruben nodded, instructing Sandra to schedule the surgery. "I'm free this Friday afternoon. Set the surgery for three o'clock. And you, try to learn a thing or two from Dr. Castillo. Among the younger generation of doctors here, she's top-notch."
Sandra stormed off, fuming.
Amy glanced at Leanne. "The month's almost over, and it's nearly vacation time. Why the long face?"
Leanne looked out the window, where the rain continued to fall. "Might have to cancel it."
"Why? The rain's supposed to stop in a few days. It shouldn't affect your plans. Plus, weren't you guys heading to Iceland? I heard the weather's nice there." As Amy rambled on, Leanne interjected. "We fought."
"Ah!" Amy's face fell even more. "Come on, you two are my relationship goals. A little fight here and there is healthy. Just make up, okay?"
Leanne offered a weak smile but said no more.
She couldn't lie to Curtis, not even if it meant pretending her parents' deaths, potentially caused by his family, didn't bother her.
Yet, she couldn't bear losing him, either.
She was too greedy, only hoping the world would stop toying with her and reveal what happened years ago had nothing to do with the Richardson family.
Facing the vast influence of the Richardson family, Leanne felt powerless. She had limited leads and was at a dead end with Chuck.
After another attempt to approach Chuck, he sighed upon hearing about her struggles in the foster system but remained tight-lipped about the past.
He even advised her to drop the investigation, warning it would bring her no good.
"You think finding the culprit will change anything? After all these years, there's no evidence left to convict anyone. What can a girl with no backing do against such power?" "Kid, take my advice. Digging further will only hurt you."
...
The rain persisted for days. So did Curtis' absence from Leanne's Castle.
Sometimes, Leanne thought of calling him but couldn't find the words to bridge their silence.
Her message drafts went unsent, the loneliness in her vast room at night unbearable, often wandering restlessly, debating whether to let the cat in for company but hesitating.
Maybe she missed him too much. At 3 AM, feeling like a lost soul, she sent a lone message.
[When are you coming home?]
Regretting it by daylight, she knew it was too late to withdraw it.
The morning passed in a blur of patients, the busy clinic leaving no room for her troubles. By the end of the day, a resident asked if she wanted to grab dinner, but her attention was on her phone, hoping for a response.
Instead, she found a flurry of messages from Joy and Selina in a group chat, their barrage of memes starkly contrasting the silence from the one person she longed to hear from.
Her finger hovered over his message thread, lingering on the words sent in a moment of vulnerability, a stark reminder of the distance between them.
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