Chapter 3
It was Monday.
I swung by the lab for a team meeting about next week's surgery schedule.
By three in the afternoon, I was back in my office, sorting through emails.
The door swung open.
Zack, the receptionist, rushed in, looking a bit flustered.
"Dr. Grant, there's a group outside who are demanding to see you," he said.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"A woman named Lily White. She's here with some people from the Quinn Family. They say it's about an urgent medical matter," Zack replied.
I set my pen down.
"Send them to the reception room," I said.
Five minutes later, I walked into the reception room.
Lily was sitting on the couch, with Peter, Michael's uncle, beside her.
The moment she saw me, she froze.
"Evelyn?" she blurted out.
I took a seat across from her.
"Ms. White, what brings you here today?" I asked.
Lily looked like she'd just seen a ghost.
She stammered, "You work here?"
"Yeah. Got a problem with that?" I replied.
"Aren't you just a two-year college grad? How did you land a job at a top company like this?" she blurted out.
Peter cut her off. "We're here to discuss a partnership with your company. We want to connect with Dr. G through your network."
"That's not something we do, connecting people to doctors," I replied.
"Ms. Grant," Peter said, still clueless about my past with the Quinn Family, "we can be flexible on the price, just name your number—"
"Mr. Quinn," I cut him off, my tone firm.
"Yes?" he replied.
"Even if you throw a ton of money at it, whether Dr. G takes the surgery is entirely up to her. And as far as I know, she's currently on break," I said.
Lily shot to her feet.
"Wait a second. How do you know Dr. G is on break?" she demanded.
I looked at her.
"That's just basic info in the medical world. Surprised you didn't know, Dr. White," I replied.
Her face flushed red.
"Evelyn, cut the act. You're only a two-year college grad. How did you end up as a big shot in a medical company like this? What's really going on with you?" Lily snapped.
"Ms. White," I replied calmly. "First, my education is none of your business.
"Second, where I sit in this company is none of your business.
"Third, as of last week, whatever's going on with the Quinn Family has nothing to do with me anymore. Please see yourselves out."
Peter tried to say something else, but Zack stepped in and led them out.
Lily paused at the door, turning back to look at me.
"You actually think you're somebody? Without the Quinn Family, you're nothing," she sneered.
I didn't bother to respond.
After she left, Zack came over.
"Dr. Grant, who is that woman? She sure acts like she owns the place," he said.
"She's nobody," I replied.
I went back to my office and got back to my emails.
Sitting on my desk was the operation plan for next Wednesday.
I flipped it open and took a quick look.
The patient was Jonathan Quinn, 78 years old, with three-vessel disease, needing a minimally invasive coronary artery bypass grafting.
There were less than five surgeons in the whole country who could pull off this kind of surgery.
None of those so-called "experts" Lily had reached out to were actually qualified for it.
She thought just getting him on the operating table would be enough.
But that wasn't enough.
If anything went wrong, Jonathan wouldn't make it off the table.
'Should I take this on?' I wondered.
'I will. Not doing this for the Quinn Family.
'It's because of what Jonathan once said to me.
'But how I do it, that's up to me.'
Tuesday.
Word from the Quinn Family was passed along by Mandy.
"Dr. Grant, Lily said she found a top ten cardiothoracic surgeon in the country. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow," Mandy said.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"I think his name is something like Samuel Sampson," Mandy replied.
Dr. Samuel Sampson. I know him personally.
He's got skills, but this operation is way out of his league.
Jonathan's case is unique. Three-vessel disease plus aortic calcification.
The standard bypass is insanely risky. Only the minimally invasive reconstruction technique I invented can keep the risk under 5%.
Go with the traditional method? The risk shoots up to at least 35%.
"Mandy," I called out.
"Yeah?" she replied.
"Are you close with Mr. Quinn?" I asked.
"Of course! He dotes on me the most," Mandy said.
"Can you ask him to hold off on the surgery for just two more days?" I asked.
"Why?" Mandy asked.
"Trust me on this," I said.
She hesitated for a couple seconds. "Okay, I'll try."
That Tuesday night, Mandy texted me back.
[Got it done. Mr. Quinn said he can wait two more days. But Catherine went off on me.
[She said I was meddling and totally tore into me.]
[Thanks for your help,] I replied.
[No worries. Evelyn, are you cooking up something?] Mandy asked.
[Hang tight, I'll let you know,] I replied.
Wednesday morning, I got an email in my office.
It was from Charles Goodman at Harmony Health Group.