Page 25 of Crossing the Line
"Take care of yourself," Lavender said, rising as well. "And remember, sometimes the scariest conversations lead to the best outcomes."
As Harper made her way back through the café toward the purple door, she felt the weight of Lavender's words settling into something like determination. She didn't have answers yet, but she had something more valuable: the beginning of a plan.
Outside, the harbor fog had thickened, wrapping Phoenix Ridge in soft silence. Harper walked slowly through the empty streets, no longer rushing toward or away from anything. For the first time since Friday night, she felt like she knew which direction she was heading.
Tomorrow, she would continue to be the competent intern her mother expected. But she would also start figuring out how to be the woman Carmen had glimpsed underneath all the lies.
The woman who might still be worth fighting for.
Back in her apartment, Harper felt the conversation with Lavender settling into something solid and useful. Each piece of advice found its proper place like puzzle pieces finally clicking together.Sometimes the scariest conversations lead to the best outcomes.The words felt like a promise and a challenge wrapped together.
She was Harper Langston: Dr. Natalie Langston's daughter, surgical intern, and a woman who'd made spectacular mistakes in the pursuit of something real. But she was also the woman who'd made Carmen laugh in the darkness, who'd traced patterns on her skin, and who’d felt something profound enough to risk everything for. That woman wasn't a lie, despite the false name and fabricated details. She was the part of the Harper that had been buried under years of careful achievement and perfect behavior.
Maybe that's who you really are underneath all the expectations.
Harper's phone buzzed with a text from Alice: “Hope you get some good rest. See you in the trenches tomorrow!”
She typed back: “Ready for whatever comes next.”
For the first time, that felt completely true.
The boxes that had mocked her earlier now looked like possibilities waiting to be unpacked. Harper moved through the space with new purpose, no longer seeing evidence of a life in transition but the foundation for whatever came next. She had eight weeks of working with Carmen ahead of her—eight weeks to prove herself professionally while figuring out how to bridge the gap between the lies she'd told and the truth she wanted to live.
It wouldn't be easy. Carmen's professional courtesy today had been polite but distant, creating boundaries that would be difficult to cross. And there was still her mother to consider, the complex web of relationships that could be damaged if this went badly. But Lavender was right that complications weren't the same as impossibilities.
Harper pulled out her laptop and opened a new document. If she was going to do this, she needed a plan that went beyond hopeful thinking. At the top of the page, she typed:How to earn back trust when you've broken it completely.
The cursor blinked at her expectantly, and Harper realized she was approaching this the way she approached everything else, like a problem to be solved through research and systematic analysis. But relationships weren't surgical procedures. They required a different kind of courage.
She deleted the heading and started over:Things I know for certain.
Carmen is brilliant, dedicated, and more vulnerable than she lets anyone see.
The woman I was with her (confident, direct, unafraid) is part of who I really am.
I can't undo the lies, but I can stop telling them.
Eight weeks is enough time to prove I'm worth the risk, if I'm brave enough to try.
Harper stared at the list, feeling something like excitement building in her chest for the first time since the morning's disaster. She didn't have all the answers yet, but she had clarity about what she wanted and why it mattered. Tomorrow, she would show up as herself—not Dr. Langston's daughter performing competence, not Hailey's confident facade, but Harper, flawed and honest and determined to fight for something worth having.
She closed the laptop and moved to her bedroom window, looking out over Phoenix Ridge. Somewhere in this city, Carmen was probably reviewing notes for tomorrow, unaware that Harper was planning to earn back her trust one honest interaction at a time. It would take patience, consistency, and the kind of vulnerability that terrified her.
But as Harper prepared for bed, she felt steadier than she had in days. Lavender's words echoed in her mind:The bigger the lie, the more important the truth becomes.
Starting tomorrow, Harper would discover what the truth could build, one careful brick at a time.
Outside her window, the fog began to lift slightly, revealing patches of starlight that promised clearer skies ahead. Harper fell asleep planning how to become the woman Carmen had glimpsed underneath all the lies—the woman who might still be worth loving, if she could find the courage to show herself completely.
The woman she'd always been, waiting for permission to exist.
7
CARMEN
Carmen's afternoon schedule lay spread across her desk: teaching rounds at two, cardiac consultation at three-fifteen, and administrative meetings that would consume what remained of her day. She'd arranged her week with astute precision, building structure around the chaos Harper Langston had introduced to her carefully ordered world.
Three days. That's how long she'd been maintaining professional distance while watching Harper navigate the cardiac wing with a maturity that surprised her. Gone was the defensive energy Carmen had expected after their disastrous first encounter. Instead, Harper approached every interaction with careful respect and genuine focus that made Carmen's protective walls feel unnecessarily rigid.
