Chapter 6

The Medical Records door was flung open.

Michael and John burst in together.

One looked like he was about to explode. The other looked utterly crushed.

Right behind them were a few department heads.

The whole group packed the tiny Medical Records room to the brim.

I didn't move or look up. I kept flipping through the old medical records in my hands.

"Claire," John called out first. "This isn't the time for a standoff. You know exactly what's happening with the prince." His usual official tone was gone, and he sounded barely able to contain his anxiety.

Finally, I looked up. I looked at him. "No idea. I'm the one who files papers.

"I'm not in a position to know about that kind of thing."

John's face went livid.

Michael, right beside him, balled his hands into fists. "Claire, don't push it."

I let out a laugh. "Out of line? How am I pushing it? I'm doing my job here, managing the records. Is that a problem?

"Or is it part of the job description now for the archivist to stay on top of global affairs?"

My words stunned everyone into silence.

One of the department heads jumped in, trying to break the awkward tension. "Come on, Claire, we're all doing this for the hospital. Help us out, will you?"

I said, "Help? I'm a doctor who got kicked out of my job and written up for it. What could I possibly do to help?

"I can't prescribe anymore. Are you sure this won't cause any compliance issues?"

Every word I said cut deep, like a blade, landing right on their sore spots, hitting them where it hurt most.

I threw every label they'd slapped on me right back at them, one after another.

John's lips trembled. He knew there was no point in trying to reason with me anymore.

He took a deep breath and tried to sound calm. "Claire, let's talk terms. If you agree to take the lead on this surgery, we'll wipe your record clean.

"You'll get your position back as Associate Chief of Cardiac Surgery. And all your previous research projects and bonuses will be returned to you."

He put his cards on the table. He thought that was what I was after.

I looked at him and shook my head. "John, you've got it all wrong. I don't care about any of that."

Michael couldn't hold back anymore. He stepped forward, his voice hoarse and cracking. "Tell me what you want, Claire. Say it. Whatever it is, I'll give it to you. Anything you want, I'll make it happen."

I met his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked frantic, desperate, completely at a loss.

I said, "What I want you can't give me."

He froze. "What is it?"

I said, "I want to turn back the clock. Back to before you gave my research paper to Melissa. Can you do that?"

He couldn't answer. His face went completely ashen.

The air was thick with tension. Everyone was staring at me, as if I were some kind of freak.

They couldn't wrap their heads around it. How could I turn down such a tempting offer?

They didn't get it. When someone's heart had already died inside, what was the point of chasing fame or status?

John's expression kept shifting, uncertainty written all over his face. He knew that neither threats nor sweet talk would work on me.

I wasn't budging an inch.

He had no choice but to play his last card. "Claire, don't forget you're a doctor. Saving lives is what you were meant to do.

"Can you stand by and watch a patient die right in front of you?"

He was trying to guilt-trip me. It was the classic cheap shot everyone pulls.

I stood up and walked right up to him. I looked him dead in the eye. "John, first off, I'm not a doctor anymore. I'm an archivist. My duty now is to protect these records.

"Secondly, my medical license has already been suspended. If I step into the OR now, I'd be practicing without a license. If something goes wrong, who takes the blame, you or me?

"Thirdly, and this is the most important part. Yes, the patient's life is important. But that's on you, not me. Who admitted him? Who treats him?

"Back when you sacrificed me to protect Melissa, did you ever stop to think I was one of your doctors, too?"

My voice was calm, but every word hit like a slap. Each one struck them, leaving no one unscathed.