Hadrian Stark

The air hung heavy with the scent of disinfectant and stale coffee, a familiar aroma after another grueling shift. Dr. Katherine Stark, pediatrician by day, weary soul by night, shrugged off her white coat. A sigh escaped her lips, drawing concerned glances from her colleagues, which she brushed off with a tired wave.

"I'm good, just ignore me," she mumbled, already heading for the door, eager to escape the hospital's sterile embrace and the inevitable plea to cover another shift.

The drive to the nearest diner was a blur of rumbling stomach and simmering hunger. Finally, a greasy, flavorful burrito was in hand, a small comfort after a long day.

Scrolling through her phone, a paused thumb hovered over an old photo – a picture of three sisters, a ghost from a past she hadn't revisited in years. Lily?