There’s a moment in every resuscitation where the room quiets—just for a second. Everyone turns to you. The nurse looks up from the crash cart. The tech has the monitor ready. You’re the one they’re waiting on.
And every time, that familiar voice whispers:
“You’re not ready for this.”
Even now, after years of training in emergency medicine, that voice still shows up. Loud. Uninvited. Doubt wrapped in scrubs and adrenaline.
I call it panic-in-charge mode.
You’re giving orders. Keeping your voice steady. But inside? Your hands are shaking. Your heart’s racing. And some small, stubborn part of you is still asking:
“Who put me in charge?”
The Truth About Leadership No One Talks About
We love the idea of leadership when it looks like confidence and control. Commanding a room. Giving a speech. Leading the charge.
But more often? Leadership looks like showing up even when you don’t feel ready.
It looks like stepping forward when someone else was supposed to go first.
It looks like being willing to make a decision when no one else can.
That truth—the hard, gritty, vulnerable side of leadership—is what shaped the heart of my novel The Remnant.
Because Basha, the heroine of this story, wasn’t born for the crown. She was never meant to lead. That was always her sister’s role—beloved, prepared, chosen. But when tragedy strikes and Basha is left behind, she has two options:
Break under the weight of it . . . or rise.
“Maybe courage is doing the hard thing anyway.”
The Voice in the Back of Your Mind
I remember the very first time I learned the name for this feeling . . . imposter syndrome.
Imposter syndrome is more than just insecurity. It’s the deeply embedded belief that you are a fraud—that at any moment, someone will realize you don’t belong in the room, the job, the opportunity you’ve been given.
It paralyzes. It convinces talented, passionate people not to try. Not to lead. Not to speak up. Not to write the story that’s been burning in their bones.
Because what if they fail? Worse: what if they succeed and still don’t feel worthy?
For me, that voice has shown up in every part of my life: medicine, writing, even relationships. But what I’ve learned—and what Basha learns too—is that courage isn’t about silencing that voice. It’s about moving forward even with it whispering in your ear.
“Even reluctant leaders can change the tide.”
Residency, Writing, and the Battle to Keep Going
I wrote The Remnant during one of the hardest seasons of my life.
At the time, I was working long, exhausting hours in the Burn ICU—a rotation that exposed me to sights, sounds, and smells I will never forget. The pain, the resilience, the raw humanity of it all—it left a mark. (And spoiler alert: it may have informed one particularly harrowing scene in The Remnant. If you know, you know. 🫠)
It was also the midpoint of residency. The novelty had worn off. The burnout had settled in. I was emotionally drained, constantly questioning if I had what it took to make it through, and deeply, achingly tired.
And so I wrote.
Not because I had time. Not because I felt particularly inspired. But because writing gave me a way to process everything I was carrying.
The Remnant became my outlet—a way to explore what grief does to us, and what it takes to move through it. To ask what it means to carry someone else’s legacy. To lead when you’re still broken. To choose courage over certainty.
Writing through that season didn’t just save the story. It helped save a part of me.
What Makes a Reluctant Hero Worth Following
Readers often ask me why I love reluctant heroes and heroines. My answer is always the same:
Because they don’t lead for glory. They lead because someone has to.
That’s Basha in a nutshell. She’s flawed. Afraid. Angry. Grieving. But she steps up anyway. Not perfectly. Not without mistakes. But with everything she has.
And in that way, she reflects so many of the women I know in real life—doctors, nurses, teachers, moms, caretakers, creatives. Women who are carrying so much, and still showing up.
Basha didn’t feel ready. Neither did I. Maybe you don’t either.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t still rise.
What Readers See in Basha
Since The Remnant first went out to Beta and ARC readers, I’ve been floored by the messages I’ve received. It turns out, Basha’s story hits home for a lot of people:
I hope The Remnant gives you that same sense of catharsis and strength.
If you’ve ever wrestled with imposter syndrome, stepped into a role you didn’t think you could handle, or done the hard thing anyway—I would love to hear your story. Hit reply or leave a comment. We grow stronger when we share our journeys.
The Remnant goes wide on June 17! If you preorder from any platform and send proof of purchase, you’ll receive a free copy of The Grounder on release day—an exclusive short story told from Danny’s POV that offers key insight leading into the final book in the series.
Trust me, you don’t want to miss it!
