AnF
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When a trip to San Francisco brings him back into Samira Mohan’s orbit for the first time in two years, Jack tells himself it’s just coincidence.
It would be easier if she didn’t already have a life here.
And even easier if he didn’t still want to be part of it.
Bookmarked by AnF
11 May 2026
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Jack didn’t go in much for praying anymore. No point, not when nobody upstairs seemed to give a shit either way. Praying was for altar boys and little kids and people who wanted their football team to win the Superbowl; for parents in his ER who refused medical care for their dying children in favor of speaking in tongues and yelling up the ladder to something that didn’t answer. Not for him. He believed in only a few things, and none of those were anything big enough to pray to.
Well, almost none. There’d been one thing. A person, really. Bigger than a person, though. More like a grand, orchestral concept, a hope half-divine, fifty-two percent of the reason he kept showing up to work for four years straight.
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Jack Abbot is seriously injured while responding to a mass shooting. Samira Mohan, who has left the Pitt, happens to be his ER doctor at Westbridge. A reunion and a conversation, both long overdue, follow.
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Bookmarked by AnF
07 May 2026
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A mass shooting occurs at PittFest. Somehow, only Jack Abbot is aware that it keeps happening again, and again, and again.
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Bookmarked by AnF
06 May 2026
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"I don’t think I’m used to people touching me anymore.”
“I know what you mean,” she says. “Obviously, I’m touching people all the time but it’s… different, right? When it’s patients and their families?”
“Yeah.” He scrapes at the label on his beer bottle with the nail of his thumb.
“When I was in undergrad, I read this article about people needing… well, I guess it was women, but I’m not sure that matters… a certain number of non-sexual touches every day. It was mostly about mental health, but I think about it a lot.”
He thinks she’s probably thinking about her mental health a lot more lately than usual, too. “What’s the right number of touches?”
“Thirteen,” she says. Her voice sounding a little defeated. “Thirteen non-sexual touches every day. But not just any touch. It’s going to be purposeful touching. And it should be someone you’re close to. Family. A partner. Friends. Just brushing up against a stranger or shaking hands with a colleague isn’t enough to start the flow of dopamine and oxytocin.”
“Thirteen. That’s not so many.”
Bookmarked by AnF
22 Apr 2026
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Samira Mohan’s life is divided cleanly into two distinct halves: before PittFest and after it. She will never again be the person she was when she clocked in for that shift. She will never forget the give of her patient’s skull beneath an EZ-IO or the slip of the pigtail catheter between her fingers. Even months later, she’s still struggling to unpack all the ways that day changed her life.
Perhaps the strangest residual effect is that Jack Abbot sort of, inexplicably, becomes her best friend.
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Or: Samira Mohan finds her way through residency and subsequently stumbles onto a whole lot more.
Bookmarked by AnF
19 Apr 2026