Chapter 2

The notification came through on my phone during rounds: "Patient complaint filed against Dr. Young regarding medication error."

I quickened my pace to the administration office, my heart racing. Finally, someone had noticed what I'd been trying to point out for months.

Linda Chen sat in the waiting area, her arm still bearing the angry red welts of an allergic reaction. She looked up as I approached, recognition flashing in her eyes.

"Dr. Watson," she said, relief evident in her voice. "Thank goodness. I need to report what happened."

I nodded, keeping my expression professional despite the vindication surging through me. "Of course, Ms. Chen. Let's talk in private."

In the consultation room, Linda detailed how Kenna had administered the wrong medication during her routine procedure yesterday. "I specifically told her about my sulfa allergy," she said, pulling up her sleeve to show the spreading rash. "She said she knew, but then gave me something that triggered this."

I documented everything carefully, my mind already formulating the protocol violation report. This wasn't just a mistake—it was negligence that could have killed someone.

"I'm so sorry this happened," I said, meaning it. "We take medication errors extremely seriously."

I was still writing when my phone buzzed with a text from Frederick: "My office. Now."

---

Frederick stood by the window, his back to me as I entered. The room felt colder than usual, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across his desk.

"You wanted to see me?" I kept my voice steady.

"Close the door," he said without turning.

I did as instructed, then waited. Finally, he faced me, his expression unreadable.

"Linda Chen filed a formal complaint about Kenna's medication error," he said flatly.

"Yes, I just finished taking her statement. It's a clear violation of—"

"A violation you should have prevented," he cut me off.

The words hit me like a physical blow. "Excuse me?"

"As Kenna's supervising physician, you failed to ensure she reviewed patient allergies properly." Frederick's voice was ice. "This is your responsibility, Alice."

I stared at him, speechless. Nine years together, and he was blaming me for Kenna's negligence?

"Frederick, that's not fair. I've documented multiple concerns about Kenna's practices, and you've dismissed every one."

He slammed his palm on the desk. "And now we have a patient with a legitimate complaint that could affect our accreditation."

"I agree it's serious," I said carefully. "But punishing me isn't going to—"

"I'm canceling your performance review," he interrupted. "And your year-end bonus is forfeit."

The room seemed to tilt slightly. My bonus—the money I'd been counting on for our honeymoon—gone because of Kenna's mistake?

"Furthermore," Frederick continued, "Kenna will be receiving a promotion to attending physician next month."

I felt something crack inside me. "You can't be serious."

"Completely serious." His eyes met mine, cold and distant. "Perhaps this will teach you to be a better mentor."

---

Later that evening, I headed to Frederick's on-call room to drop off his favorite coffee. We'd barely spoken since our confrontation, and I hoped to find him alone.

The door was unlocked. I pushed it open quietly, balancing the coffee cup carefully.

The room was empty, but the bed was rumpled. Frederick must have been resting earlier.

I set the coffee down and turned to leave, when something caught my eye—a flash of color beneath the bed.

Curious, I knelt down and reached under the bedframe. My fingers closed around a small elastic band decorated with tiny crystals.

A hair tie.

I recognized it instantly—Kenna's signature style. The same ones she always wore in her perfectly styled hair.

My heart pounded as I examined it more closely. It wasn't just any hair tie; it was one I'd seen wrapped around her wrist during surgery yesterday.

The door opened behind me.

"Alice?" Frederick's voice startled me. "What are you doing here?"

I stood slowly, the hair tie clutched in my hand. "I brought you coffee," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes narrowed when he saw what was in my hand. "And what is that?"

"Evidence," I said, holding up the hair tie. "Kenna was in here. With you."

Frederick's face hardened. "Put that down. Now."

"Why would her hair tie be under your bed, Frederick?"

"For God's sake, Alice!" He snatched the hair tie from my hand. "This is exactly why I can't talk to you anymore. You're paranoid!"

"Paranoid?" I repeated, incredulous. "I found evidence—"

"Evidence you planted!" he shouted, throwing the hair tie back at me. "Do you think I don't know what you're doing? Trying to frame an innocent colleague because you're jealous?"

I stood frozen, the hair tie dangling from my fingers, as Frederick's words echoed in the small room.

"Innocent colleague," he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Not everything is a conspiracy, Alice. Maybe if you spent less time looking for problems and more time fixing your own, I wouldn't be so disappointed in you."

The coffee cup trembled in my other hand, hot liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

And in that moment, I realized that the man standing before me—the man I'd loved for nine years—was a stranger I no longer recognized.