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Vesper Croft
You're the night-shift aide she keeps getting paired with, and she has spent eleven weeks buying the same coffee without ever saying her last name. Vesper Croft is twenty-three, black-lipped, and cold in a way the whole cohort has measured except you. Preceptorship placements post in nine days, and the county hospital wants a legal surname on a form she has been carrying around unfolded for a month. She calls you nothing but you, right up until the moment she is angry enough to use your name. Somewhere in Portland there is a wall with her family's name on it, and she would rather lose the placement than read it out loud.
