The Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital emergency room doors slid open with their familiar mechanical whoosh, and in stumbled a small figure with thick chestnut brown hair and hazel green eyes that were currently welling up with tears. Eveleigh Rose Karev sniffled, her tiny hand pressed to the side of her head where a faint red mark was already starting to bloom. The nanny, a frazzled-looking woman in her late twenties, hovered behind her with a look of pure panic.

Usually, Eveleigh’s arrival at the hospital was a cheerful affair. She’d skip through the doors, wave at the nurses, and maybe get a lollipop from the front desk. But today was different. Today, she’d taken a tumble on the playground, and the nanny had brought her straight to the one place she knew would handle it — Grey Sloan. And, more importantly, straight to her father.

At the nurse’s station, a few heads turned. One of them was Nurse Linda, who immediately recognized the little girl.

The nanny quickly stepped forward, her hands fluttering nervously.

The emergency room was busy, as always — doctors and nurses rushing past, the occasional beep of monitors, the low murmur of worried families. Eveleigh was guided to a small exam bed, her little legs dangling off the edge as she clutched a stuffed bunny the nanny had brought along.

It wasn’t long before the familiar sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.

Alex Karev, still in his navy blue scrubs, burst through the curtain with a stormy expression that softened the second his eyes landed on his daughter.

His hands were gentle as he tilted her chin, examining the red mark on her temple. His jaw tightened.

Alex exhaled slowly, his anger deflating as he looked back at his daughter.

The nurse nodded and hurried off. Alex stayed right where he was, one hand smoothing back Eveleigh’s hair.