Turning the corner, Amber saw Eric at once, stooped and glowering and tight like he was about to about to explode. Her anger hardened. So he'd found out. But she'd done nothing wrong. The worst she'd done was stick to her medical beliefs and she wouldn't ever feel guilty about that. Her pride came from doing whatever she had to-- and not from browbeating everyone else into obedience, as it apparently did for Eric.

Walking to him, one calm step at a time, Amber knew that her showing up would be the trigger to a bomb. Suddenly, she hoped she looked good. It'd been hours since she'd last checked-- arguing and testing and treating didn't leave much space for primping in the mirror. For a fight Amber did like to look her best-- but she could've torn Eric down even if she were a muddied mess.

Coolly, Amber crossed her arms. They were right in front of Casey's room; they couldn't bicker here. At least, not obviously. "How is she?" Amber's gaze flicked quickly to Casey herself-- maybe Eric was actually angry because her condition had taken a nosedive. But, no, Casey waved, smiling briefly. She seemed happier than earlier; she must've gotten good news. One of the treatments must've worked. Amber waved back before returning her attention to Eric. “She looks well.” God, and to think that just forty-eight hours ago, they’d been—it didn’t matter. Her professional life always came first. It had to. It was who she was and no amount of infatuation would make her change. Not even for Eric.