Grace registers a 100.8-degree temperature. "Feels like 108," she groans. Carter announces that she's a bit anemic, and she grabs her chart while spouting the factoid that 40 percent of menstruating women are. Carter rushes ahead with his diagnosis that she's simply overworked and badly rested. "Time to pick a career," he tells her; meanwhile, she's sitting in her hospital bed with a textbook and highlighter, insisting that she won't forego medicine and therefore must study law in order to snag her parents' cash. Grace hasn't heard of student loans. Grace doesn't have my sympathy. "If your parents are attorneys, how come you have no health insurance?" Carter asks casually. "Let's just say I have a sad and complicated relationship with them you couldn't begin to understand," Grace sighs. Carter understands, though. Maybe she'll be Carter's bastard sister. He tries to finagle a promise to rest, eat right and resist caffeine, but Grace won't commit because of her schedule. "I haven't had eight hours [of] sleep in months," she sighs. "Think you could get me some Halcyon?" Carter is loath to agree. She oozes rationality, explaining that she just needs to go home and crash and write off the day; then, she playfully bribes him with the reminder that she diagnosed Gallant's patient. Reluctantly but respectfully, Carter writes her a prescription but makes her swear to change her habits. Grace's eyes darken with deception as they flicker across the prescription. "Cross my heart," she says insincerely. For his big finish, Carter quizzes her about medical trivia and is impressed when she answers correctly. Grace is way too self-satisfied for my liking, plus the actress rushes through her lines. There's nothing endearing about her, so I find myself wishing she'd pass out and leave us all alone.