The logistics department was mainly responsible for purchasing and distributing basic office supplies, so there were not many people.

Other than me, there were a few interns and older employees waiting for retirement.

The person sitting beside me was named Maya. She was a senior-year intern.

She was naturally friendly and efficient. She helped me move my boxes down and clicked her tongue.

"Grace, I heard you transferred to logistics because you wanted to have a baby?"

I lowered my head and kept organizing my things. I did not answer.

Who knew whether she would be like the nurses from my old department, only interested in watching me become a joke and kicking me when I was down?

The silence was awkward, but Maya continued talking as if nothing had happened.

"Honestly, I think that rule is really unreasonable. Don't you think so?

"You and Dr. Stone aren't in the same department. Your work isn't the same either. Both of you being pregnant doesn't really affect anything. I don't know what leadership was thinking.

"But logistics has no future. Grace, what are you going to do after the baby is born?"

"Maya! Don't talk so much!" someone beside her reminded her.

"Have you forgotten the time you complained to leadership about the low pay in logistics and got lectured for an entire morning?

"If it's not our business, don't talk. Do you still want this job or not?"

Maya kept working with her hands, setting up my desk for me while pouting.

"I just think it's unfair. It doesn't affect the department's work. What's wrong with being pregnant?"

I finally looked up at her.

She had a likable, round face.

"It's fine. Logistics is pretty good," I said.

For the next three days, I went to work and came home calmly, doing only what belonged to my job.

There was no more endless overtime. I no longer had to deal with patients. Life did not seem that hard to endure.

Occasionally, people from my old department came to pick up office supplies.

When they spoke to me, they were no longer polite like before.

Instead, their voices carried disdain.

The kind of disdain registered nurses had for logistics staff who were seen as coasting until retirement.

"Grace, it's such a pity that you've fallen this far."

I handed her the supplies with no expression.

"I think it's pretty good."

The young nurse curled her lip.

"I think you're just trapped by the baby. Do you really have to give birth? Pregnancy hormones are terrifying."

But she did not know.

This was not about hormones. It was not even only about this child.

What I wanted was fairness, justice, and true equality.

Not a world where someone could rely on connections and cut off every path I had.

The turning point came on the fourth day.

I had just gotten off work when my phone vibrated.

It was a message on WhatsApp.

Then a second, a third, a fourth.

It vibrated eighteen times in total.

Eighteen messages. That was the exact number of nurses in our department.

Each message represented a difficult problem they could not handle.

Before I could open the chat, the charge nurse called me.

On the other end, the department was in complete chaos.

"Grace Walker, reply to everyone's messages right now! Hurry!"

I tightened my grip on the phone. My voice was quiet but firm.

"Why should I?"

The charge nurse's voice changed pitch.

"What do you mean, why? Grace, when I tell you to reply, you reply!

"If the department's work is delayed, can you take responsibility?"

My voice remained calm.

"Nurse Parker, you've misunderstood. I'm only a logistics employee now.

"What does your department's work have to do with me?"

I hung up and turned on Do Not Disturb.

After returning home, I slowly ate the pregnancy meal my husband had cooked, took a shower, and only then picked up my phone again.

My WhatsApp messages had already become 99+, and there were countless missed calls.

I opened the chats one by one. They were indeed all messages from my former coworkers.

"Grace, the patient's vitals are normal, but he's sweating cold. Should we put him on oxygen?"

"Grace, how should this line on the patient information card be filled in? The charge nurse is asking for the schedule."

"Grace, the patient's hands are swollen. How did you manage to get the IV in last time?"

Every message was packed with questions.

Every message was their problem.

But I did not deal with any of them. I did not reply to a single one.

My husband came over with a cup of warm milk, his face full of worry.

"Grace, have you been mistreated at the hospital lately?"

My expression finally softened. I gave a light laugh.

"Of course not. The ones being mistreated, the ones in trouble, are someone else."

The next day, I still went to work at my own pace and sat down at my desk in logistics.

But before I had even warmed the chair, the office door was pushed open.

The charge nurse stormed in, full of anger, and knocked on my desk.

"Grace Walker, why didn't you answer your phone? Why didn't you reply to your coworkers' messages?

"These are life-or-death issues. If you don't even care about patient safety, what right do you have to be a nurse?"

I calmly swallowed the last bite of bread and wiped my mouth.

"Nurse Parker, don't put such a heavy label on me. I can't carry it.

"I'm only a logistics employee now. My coworkers are all logistics staff. My duty is to purchase and distribute office supplies.

"If your department is out of pens or paper, you're welcome to submit a request through the proper process.

"Besides, the person who doesn't care about patient safety isn't me. It's the leadership that transferred me to logistics."

Those four sentences left the charge nurse's face livid. For a long while, she could not say a word.

She glared at me for a long time before leaving, slamming the door so hard it shook.

Maya clicked her tongue behind me.

"Grace, she's terrifying."

I smiled and handed Maya a piece of bread.

"She's just the first soldier. More people will come."

Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, Martin Blake appeared at the door.

He wore a formulaic smile of concern for a subordinate and placed a bag of apples on my desk.

"Grace, your charge nurse was really out of line. How could she shout at a pregnant woman like that? I'll apologize on her behalf."

I said nothing and only looked at him quietly.

Martin did not seem bothered by the awkward silence. He looked around at the simple logistics office.

"Oh, Grace, this environment is a little rough. You've suffered these past few days."

I looked up.

"Director Blake, I actually think this place is perfect for pregnancy."

Martin rubbed his hands together and finally revealed his true purpose.

"Grace, I know you're a good employee. I also know you won't ignore patients.

"After you left, those young girls have been causing me nothing but trouble. I was thinking, could you come back and train them?

"Once they're trained to be as excellent as you, I can finally relax."

I smiled.

"Director Blake, you think too highly of me. I'm just in charge of logistics now. How could I train your department?

"Besides, the hospital has already provided standardized training for these basic professional skills. You know that."

After being openly refused, Martin's expression became strained.

He grew impatient.

"Grace, do you really have to do this? What good does it do you to make everyone lose face?"

I handed the irritating bag of apples back to him.

"Director Blake, you're wrong. I was never on anyone's stage, and I don't want to be.

"If there's nothing else, please don't interrupt my work."

"Fine, Grace. You've got nerve."

Martin threw the apples heavily into the trash.

"Don't think the department can't function without you. Who do you think you are?"

I watched Martin leave with a calm expression.

I knew he would come back again.

Because without me, the department really could not function.