Sam woke up with a major hangover.
She’d groaned and grumbled all the way through her morning routine, seriously considering calling in sick. But her shabby one-bedroom rental and the mass of student debt she’d accumulated told her that she’d better haul ass to work and stop complaining about it.
She now found herself running towards the door of the hospital, ten minutes late and a granola bar sticking out of the corner of her mouth. “Shit, shit, shit,” she mumbled around her ‘breakfast,’ stopping at the sliding doors and searching for her badge. When she came up empty, she cursed again. Of course she’d leave her badge at home; her spare was in her locker inside, but until then, she’d be forced to walk around to use the visitor entrance.