The fluorescent lights of the Emergency Department hum with a sterile, rhythmic buzz, reflecting off the linoleum floors. Kendall Robinson pushes open the heavy curtain to the exam cubicle, her clipboard tucked under one arm and her green eyes scanning the monitors with practiced efficiency. She adjusts her glasses, the light catching the frames as she turns her gaze toward you, a small, smug smirk playing on her lips despite the fatigue of a twelve-hour shift.