Chapter 3

Dean Morrison was summoned by the head nurse almost immediately.

His forehead was slick with sweat, but he forced himself to speak:

"Mr. Blackwood, this is a hospital. Emergency treatment has to follow protocol. As for Dr. Hart—"

"I don't care about protocol."

Adrian cut him off.

"I want the person."

"You said the most capable surgeon is Dr. Hart. Then get her here."

Morrison tried to continue, but the sharp click of heels echoed from the other end of the corridor.

"Adrian!"

Sophia practically threw herself at him. Her face was ashen, her eyes rimmed red, and she seized his arm.

"What's happening? Is Dr. Hart here yet?"

"Noah can't wait any longer!"

Her voice trembled, yet it still carried that same entitled shrillness.

"He's only seven! You're going to make him lie in there waiting for what?"

"For you people to hold your meetings and plod through your procedures?"

Adrian put an arm around her and murmured:

"I'm handling it."

"Soon."

Sophia couldn't calm down. She turned on Morrison.

"There's a child in there, not some case file for you to drag your feet over!"

"I want an expert who can actually save him, not some random body you've trotted out to placate me!"

A few cardiothoracic surgeons finally spotted me in the corner, their voices dropping one after another.

"Dr. Hart, just go ahead and see them."

"The child has acute aortic dissection. You're the only one in this hospital who has the best chance."

"If this drags on any longer, none of us can bear the responsibility."

I leaned against the pillar and didn't move.

Just then, Adrian's gaze swept in my direction.

He looked at me once, then frowned—clearly impatient.

"What's this supposed to mean?"

He turned to Morrison.

"I'm looking for Dr. Hart. Why are you bringing me some young doctor?"

Morrison answered immediately:

"Mr. Blackwood, she is Dr. Evelyn Hart."

"Her?"

Sophia looked me over too. Her eyes raked me up and down, full of skepticism and displeasure.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"My son is in critical condition, and you're putting a woman this young at the operating table?"

The deputy chief steeled himself to explain:

"Mrs. Blackwood, Dr. Hart is our strongest specialist in this area. Her success rate—"

"What I want is someone who can save his life."

Sophia cut him off, her face cold.

"Not your pretty talk."

"If something goes wrong, who takes responsibility? You? Or her?"

I stood there, still saying nothing.

The mask covered most of my face. After all these years, it wasn't strange they didn't recognize me at first glance. Besides, at this moment their eyes were fixed on Noah in the operating room—they weren't going to look closely enough to figure out who I was.

Adrian clearly didn't buy it either. His expression grew even darker.

"I've done my research."

"The best aortic dissection surgeon at St. Catherine's is Dr. Hart."

He stared at the dean.

"I want her. Not whoever you're pushing out to placate me."

Sophia clenched her fingers, her breathing ragged, but she still managed that cutting edge.

"My son can't afford to wait."

"You'd better not gamble with his life."

The words had barely left her mouth when the corridor PA system crackled to life.

"Cardiothoracic OR requesting backup—aortic dissection patient's blood pressure continues to drop, vitals unstable. All relevant physicians report immediately."

This time, the hallway went completely quiet.

Every pair of eyes landed on me.

Morrison's voice was tight:

"Mr. Blackwood, the Dr. Hart you're looking for—it's her."

Adrian stared at me.

He clearly hadn't expected that the lead surgeon he'd mobilized every connection to find would be me.

Sophia froze for a moment, then frowned.

"Dean, are you certain there's no mistake?"

"My son's life is not a game."

Morrison rushed to explain:

"Dr. Hart may be young, but she has the highest success rate for this type of surgery in the entire hospital."

"Given the situation, she's the one with the best chance."

Sophia's face was grim, but she finally held her tongue.

Adrian looked at me, his tone cold and hard.

"Since it's you, then get in there and operate."

"Everything else can wait until the child is saved."

I looked up at him.

“So your son's life is the only one that matters? Other people's dignity and careers—those don't count?”

Adrian's eyes darkened.

The next second, he pulled out his phone.

"The State Medical Board?"

"I'd like to file a complaint against the cardiothoracic department at St. Catherine's."

"A critically ill child can be treated, yet they refuse to operate. Disregard for human life."

"Send investigators immediately."

The line went dead. The air in the corridor snapped taut.

Within minutes, calls flooded in from hospital administration and risk management.

Morrison hung up and his face had gone white.

"They're demanding a full incident report immediately."

"The cardiothoracic emergency corridor is being placed under administrative oversight."

"All physicians involved in the consultation are to have their clinical privileges suspended pending investigation."

Several doctors panicked at once.

Morrison hurried over to me, his voice nearly pleading.

"Dr. Hart, please just take this case."

"This department didn't get to where it is overnight. If this blows up, everyone is finished."

The deputy chief whispered:

"Once a suspension of clinical privileges hits the record, who's ever going to trust us at the table again?"

"Please. Just help us out."

Adrian pocketed his phone and looked at me, still imperious.

"Ready to operate now?"

"Do it, and I withdraw the complaint immediately."

"Money, compensation, conditions—name them."

He paused, his voice dropping lower.

"But if you keep stalling, the consequences of this entire department being suspended and investigated today—that falls on you."

Sophia finally couldn't hold back, staring at me with reddened eyes.

"Everyone is saying only you can do this, and you're still standing here doing nothing. What exactly do you want?"

"Do you need every single person here to grovel before you'll save my son?"

"You know perfectly well no one can replace you!"

The corridor was terrifyingly still.

Adrian stepped closer, his voice so low it scraped like frost.

"I'll say this one last time."

"You will take this surgery."

I looked at him.

"Besides threats, is there anything else you know how to do?"

That sentence ignited him completely.

Sophia snapped too, the words tearing out of her:

"If it were your child lying in there, could you really stand here this unmoved?"

Every eye was on me.

I looked at this man who would stop at nothing, and the irony hit me like a wave.

Four years ago, he had stood before me exactly like this.

Only back then, the ones he was protecting were Sophia and her child.

And the one he trampled underfoot was my daughter's life.

I raised my eyes to Sophia, my voice so quiet it was almost ice.

"As a matter of fact, I did have a child once."

I stared at them both and spoke, word by word:

"And the person who watched her die and did nothing is standing right beside you."