Chapter 3

On the morning of the third day, I was still standing vigil at the ICU entrance, as motionless and empty as a soulless sculpture.

A well-dressed, refined middle-aged man approached.

Hedy spotted him and jumped up in surprise. "Mr. Blackwood, what brings you here?"

I recognized him as Edward Blackwood, the director of Riverside Hospital and an old college friend of my mother's.

His deep-set eyes landed on me, a hint of sympathy flickering within them. "I heard about your mom, Eloise. How are you holding up?"

I forced a stiff smile. "Thanks for caring, Edward."

He skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point. "Eloise, come work at my hospital. I'll give you a salary of 260 thousand dollars a year, your own private office, and you can build your own team."

I froze, my mind blank for a moment. "Edward, but right now?"

"I know you got fired," Edward interrupted, his voice calm and unwavering. "But I'm after your medical skills, not your tarnished work history."

I shook my head, my voice hoarse. "I-I can't think about any of that right now."

Edward suddenly lowered his voice, and his next words made my blood run cold.

"Don't you want to know why your mom's heart attack was so sudden and severe?" he said.

I snapped my head up, locking eyes with him. "What are you trying to say?"

"She's been picking up her arrhythmia meds from Doriaten Hospital for years, right?" Edward fixed me with a piercing look. "I've gone through her records. Her arrhythmia was mild. There's no way it should've caused her heart to stop."

My breath came in short, panicked bursts as a chilling thought hit me. "But her check-ups always showed she was fine."

Edward looked at me with a knowing gaze. "Normal test results, but strange reactions to the meds. Eloise, there's some seriously shady business going on in the way your hospital gets its drugs."

My face went very pale.

I suddenly remembered something. Mom had been saying lately that after taking the meds from the hospital, her heart would pound like crazy, even worse than when she skipped them.

Back then, I brushed it off as just a side effect and reassured her she'd get used to it soon.

I couldn't believe I was so careless.

"If you want to uncover the truth, you need a place where Doriaten Hospital can't hold you back," Edward said, his words the key that unlocked the door to vengeance inside me. "My hospital can give you that."

I clenched my fists, nails digging deep into my palms; the sharp pain jolted me awake.

"I accept," I said, my voice low, every word icy with resolve.

Edward nodded, clearly pleased. "Good. Come by tomorrow to sign the papers. The contract's already waiting for you."

He turned to leave, but after a few steps, he stopped and glanced back.

"Oh, and by the way, Mason Cooper, the director from procurement at the Doriaten Hospital, booked a top-tier checkup package for his whole family at our place last week, the 60 thousand dollar one."

My breath caught in my throat.

Mason barely pulled in a few grand a month. How could he afford a 60-thousand-dollar package?

Suddenly, it all became painfully clear. My mom's sickness wasn't some random tragedy.

Someone did this.

Through the heavy ICU glass, I watched my mom lying motionless on the bed, hooked up to all those machines.

I swear to myself.

Whoever did this, I would make them pay. An eye for an eye.

Riverside Hospital was right in the city's busiest downtown area. Its thirty-two-story medical tower sparkled in the sunlight, like a true modern church of healing.

There was none of the usual crowd, noise, or hopelessness one would find at Doriaten Hospital. Instead, everything here was quiet, bright, and carried a soothing sense of order.

The HR director led me to my new office.

"Dr. Langley, this is your private consultation room. It's around 2 thousand square feet and comes fully equipped with the latest medical equipment imported from Joritand," the HR director said.

I stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing down at the bustling city below. It felt worlds apart from where I'd been before.

Just three days ago, I was still stuck in that cramped ER, barely able to turn around, arguing heatedly with patients' families over a bed.

The HR director handed me a beautifully bound contract. "Dr. Langley, your base annual salary is 260 thousand.

"You'll also get quarterly bonuses and project dividends on top of that. And all your benefits will be covered at the highest level."

I signed my name, the pen scratching softly across the paper.

It all felt unreal, like a dream that was just too good to be true.

Meanwhile, over at Doriaten Hospital's ER, the head nurse was showing her phone to James.

"Dr. Harrington, look. Eloise just jumped ship to Riverside Hospital. Word is she's pulling in 260 thousand a year," the head nurse said, her voice dripping with envy.

James took a sip from his thermos and sneered, "Private hospitals are all a bunch of scams. They'll say anything for hype. Who does she think she is, some kind of miracle worker? Let's see how long she can keep up the act."

Meanwhile, in a neighborhood chat group, Linda was showing off her latest win with smug satisfaction.

[Listen up, everyone. That rude doctor I complained about? Got fired, thanks to me. That's how you deal with those money-grabbing slackers,] Linda bragged.

The group immediately blew up with likes and replies.

[Linda, you're a legend. That's the way. Show them who's boss,] someone cheered.

[For real. We're the customers. They should treat us like royalty. If they can't even be polite, what business do they have being doctors?] another person agreed.

Linda looked at her phone with a smug grin, then scooped her son into her arms and kissed him on the cheek. "See that, sweetie? If anyone ever tries to mess with you, I will always stand up for you."

She was so caught up in her own triumph that she didn't notice the strange, unhealthy flush creeping across her son's cheeks.

Back at Riverside Hospital, Edward knocked on my office door and walked in.

"Eloise, I've put together a team for you. These are your three assistants," he said.

Three young people followed him in.

One of the girls spotted me and called out excitedly, "Hi, Eloise."

I recognized her instantly. It was Clara Beaumont, the grad student I used to mentor back in the day.

"Clara? How did you end up here?" I asked, surprised.

Clara scratched her head, a little sheepish. "Eloise, I-I got laid off from Doriaten Hospital, too."

My heart warmed. I walked over and gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. "No worries. You're with me now. We'll do great together."

The other two assistants quickly introduced themselves. Both were newly graduated attending physicians, and the way they looked at me was full of respect and admiration.

That afternoon, my very first consultation request landed on my desk.

The patient was in the VIP ward, a local chairman of a publicly listed corporation.

He'd been running a high fever for three weeks, bouncing between all the top hospitals in the city, undergoing countless tests, but nobody could figure out the cause.

I flipped through the thick stack of medical records and test results, my brow furrowing deeper with every page.

"I'll go see the patient," I told Clara.

As soon as we stepped into the ward, the patient's family rushed over, looking desperate. The middle-aged woman in front had red eyes from crying. "Doctor, please, you have to save my dad. Money isn't a problem."

I walked up to the bed. The patient was half-unconscious, barely breathing.

I checked him over carefully, and when my fingers brushed his, I caught a detail most people would overlook. His fingertips had a slight clubbing.

The name of a disease, so rare and almost always fatal, hit me in a flash.

I looked up in a commanding tone. "Prep the patient. Start bronchoscopy and bloodwork for serum G and GM tests."