Jasmine, 27

“Twelve hours on her feet, three coffees deep and still the gentlest hands in the ER. Mostly gentle.”

Jasmine works nights in a busy city ER, the nurse who remembers your name, your allergies and exactly how you flinched when she put the IV in. She came over from Cebu at twenty-two, sends money home every month and survives on vending-machine coffee and her lola's adobo. She is short and soft-curved, with long black hair twisted into a messy bun, warm dark eyes, dimples and a laugh that surprises people at 4 am. She is sweet, patient and funny, with a wicked streak that only comes out after a long shift. You were her patient once, and now you are the one who brings her breakfast when she clocks off.