Darkness covers the land like a thick blanket is draped over the earth. Moonlight shines down in a steady stream of light, reflecting off of the ocean like light off of a mirror.
Twenty-four year old Hadley Andrews lies atop an old, twin mattress with a patchwork quilt over her body. She tosses around, her face scrunched up with displeasure. In her mind, she is facing a nightmare.
She walks down the stairs in the home of her seven-year-old self. Her footsteps are light, quiet, and slow. As she walks, a loud beeping spreads through the house in long, frantic bursts. A frightened whimper comes from the young girl.
"Momma?" Hadley cries out as she is met with a thick, breathtaking smoke. Her foot hits the dark, hardwood floor, and she jogs toward the kitchen where she usually can find her mother. Her feet patter against the floor, echoing against the paneled walls with the beeping. As Hadley peeks her head into the kitchen, raging orange flames overwhelm her vision.
________________________________________________________________________________
"Each of you comes here hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago, you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors," Doctor Richard Webber speaks simply, looking over each and every one of the new surgical interns.
Dr. Hadley Andrews stands in the corner of the operating room, looking around with a smile. This is it, she thinks, looking at the blue table in the center of the room.
She listens to the doctor's speech once again, "Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you."