Chapter Text
Amelia Shepherd hated goodbyes, so she left Seattle the way she left LA. No ceremony. No fuss. A phone call on the way out the door. Only Link and Jo knew the truth. They had kids of their own to look after. Amelia would take Scout.
The sun was already brutal when she stepped out of Austin‑Bergstrom with Scout’s small hand locked in hers and a single suitcase dragging behind her like a reluctant pet.
“Why does this place smell like barbeque immediately?” Amelia muttered.
Scout squinted at the skyline. “Is it better than Seattle?”
Amelia hesitated. “It’s better for you, buddy.”
That night, they did eat some barbeque at a place by their new barely furnished apartment. Amelia found herself staring at all the beers on tap. She would have to get to a meeting soon. In the meantime, she fortified herself with the bright smile on Scout’s face as he ate his ribs.
The next morning, Amelia raced to work. She didn’t have time for a dry run before her first day. She got lost on the way. She saw someone waiting for a spot.
She quickly stole it for herself. She couldn’t afford to be late.
A Lexus pulled to a stop behind her car. “You stole my spot.”
“You were on your phone,” Amelia said, reaching in the backseat for her son.
“I was responding to an important text,” the woman said.
“On your phone,” Amelia snapped. It was only when she looked up that she saw the woman’s face. It was Monica Beltran. The woman she had been researching. The one she came to Texas for.
Dr. Beltran drove away in a huff. Amelia hung her head dejectedly. Her first day and she already screwed up.
Inside Lone Star Research Hospital, everything gleamed. It was the kind of building that expected excellence without asking for it. Her badge still felt fake when she clipped it on. Dr. Amelia Shepherd — Neurosurgery.
Christopher’s name echoed in her head like a warning shot. Don’t lose another one.
She barely made it ten minutes before colliding with her future problem.
“You’re blocking my OR,” a voice snapped.
Amelia turned. She was met with dark honey eyes and sharp posture. Dr. Beltran didn't waste a single movement.
“Dr. Beltran. About before-”
“My patient’s already under and you’re wasting my time.” She paused, eyes flicking to Amelia’s badge. “Shepherd. Great. Another transplant. We’ll see how long this one lasts.”
Amelia blinked. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Dr. Monica Beltran,” she said flatly. “Try not to slow Texas down.”
She walked off before Amelia could reply.
Texas already hated her.