Chapter 3
As the meeting wrapped up, Peter walked over to me.
"This is over for now, but keep an eye on the guy who questioned you earlier. He's the secretary to the associate dean from the teaching department," he said.
"Got it," I replied.
"Harmony General Hospital isn't some backwater. Stay sharp. There might be more coming your way."
I nodded.
As I stepped out of the conference room, I saw someone standing at the end of the hallway.
It was Cindy.
When she saw me, her face was caught somewhere between disappointment and defiance.
I didn't stop and walked right past her.
"Dr. Jenkins," Cindy called out.
I stopped, but didn't turn around.
"I already know the outcome," she said, her voice a little rough. "But I want you to know. I'm not switching to another department. I'll wait for as long as it takes. Next year, I'll apply again."
"Suit yourself," I replied.
I kept walking. There was no more sound from behind me.There was no more sound from behind me.
*****
The review was over, but the chain reaction it set off was just beginning.
During the morning rounds on Wednesday, Tessa Horton pulled me aside.
She said, "Dr. Jenkins, just a heads up. Yesterday afternoon, some woman showed up in our department and said she was related to Cindy.
"She was asking about your teaching style and what you're like at work. I didn't tell her anything, but I figured you should know."
"What did she look like?" I asked.
"Early thirties, looked pretty put together, spoke politely, but honestly, she had this vibe, like she expected everyone to do whatever she wanted."
It must be Claire. She actually showed up.
"Thanks, Tessa. I got it," I said.
"Watch your back. Those well-connected family members are always a real headache," Tessa warned.
At lunch, Wendy came over again.
"Natalie, did you hear? Word is, over in the surgery building, people are saying you turned down a resident because of a personal grudge," Wendy said.
"Who's spreading that?" I asked.
"No idea who started it, but it's all over the place now. Even the ortho guys are talking about it."
I put down my fork. "Let people gossip. Everyone knows the truth, and the committee's decision is out in the open."
"Shouldn't you clear things up?"
"No need. The more I try to explain, the guiltier I'll look."
Wendy sighed. "You're always so tough, you know that?"
At two in the afternoon, I was reviewing a patient's pre-op scans when my phone rang.
It was a local number I didn't recognize.
After a moment's hesitation, I answered.
"Dr. Jenkins? It's Eric." It was a man's voice.
I hadn't heard his voice in seven years.
But that tone, that rhythm, there was no mistaking it.
"Did you change your number just to call me?" I asked.
"You blocked me on WhatsApp and wouldn't answer my calls. I had no other way," Eric replied.
"Just say what you want."
"Can we sit down and talk about Cindy? She's a good kid, and what happened between Claire and me has nothing to do with her. You're taking your anger out on her—"
I cut him off. "Eric. First, I'm not taking anything out on her. Second, you have no right to interfere with my work. Third, if you try to contact me again in any way, I'll take legal action."
"Natalie—"
"That's it. Don't call again."
I hung up.
I pressed my hand against the desk, my knuckles turning white.
It wasn't anger. It was just absurd.
After seven years, Eric still thought I should listen to him. Who did he think he was?
*****
The rumors didn't stop. They kept getting more and more outrageous.
A week later, I spotted a post on the hospital's anonymous forum.
The title screamed: [Exposed: Harmony General Hospital associate director uses position for revenge, blocks top student. The shocking truth will leave you speechless.]
The post was pure clickbait. It never mentioned my name, but the hints about the department, job title, and timeline made it obvious who they meant.
There were dozens of replies. Some were questioning me, some backed me up, and plenty just jumped on the hate bandwagon.
The top-voted comment was: [If this is true, someone like that doesn't deserve to be a teacher.]
At lunch, Wendy slammed her hand on the table, pissed off.
"It's definitely them! This is so obviously a hit job! Shouldn't you go to the media team and get them to deal with it?" Wendy snapped.
"Chill," I replied.
"How are you not freaking out?"
"The more I freak out, the more they win." I took a sip of my soup. "The post doesn't mention my name, and there's zero evidence. If I jump in to defend myself, it'll just make me look guilty."
"So you're just going to put up with it?"
"I'm not putting up with it. I'm waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Waiting for them to mess up."
Back in my office, I fired up my computer.
I didn't bother checking how many new comments had piled up under that post.
Instead, I pulled up the materials Cindy had submitted for her review and gave them another careful look.
Then I logged into the hospital's residency management system to check her current status.
She was still on the waiting list. No department had picked her up yet.
According to the rules, if no department picked her up by the end of the month, her residency spot would be put on hold, and she'd have to reapply next year.
So basically, she was in limbo.
If Cindy were any other student, she probably would've accepted a transfer to another department by now.
But she didn't. She was waiting.
That kind of determination was pretty rare for someone in their twenties.
I closed the system and leaned back in my chair.
Was Cindy doing it for pride, or did she truly want to learn?
It didn't matter. My answer wouldn't change.
*****
On Friday evening, as I was locking my office door, my phone buzzed with a text.
It was from an unknown number.
It read: [Dr. Jenkins, this is Cindy's mother. Would you have some time to meet and talk? As her mom, I want to understand the situation a bit better. I promise I won't take up much of your time.]
I stared at the message, and I couldn't help but laugh.
First Claire, then Eric, then Cindy herself, and now even her mom was getting in on the act.
What a circus. The whole family was tag-teaming me
I didn't bother replying. I put my phone on silent and walked out of the hospital.
The October night air was even cooler than September's.
Under the streetlights, the leaves were starting to turn yellow.
I pulled my coat tighter around me and headed for the subway.
Behind me, the hospital building blazed with lights, like a fortress that never went dark.
This was my battlefield. It didn't matter who came at me.
*****
I didn't go to the hospital over the weekend. I stayed home, working on my research paper.
On Sunday night, Peter called me.
"Natalie, come by my office tomorrow morning," he said.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Max called me in for a talk."
Max, the top dog at Harmony General Hospital.
I had a pretty good idea what this was about.
"What time?" I asked.
"Eight," Peter replied.
"Got it."
*****
At 7:50 on Monday morning, I pushed open the door to Peter's office. He was sitting behind his desk, a cup of strong coffee in front of him, his face even more serious than usual.
"Sit," he said.
I took a seat.
He explained, "Max called me in for a half-hour talk last Friday. The thing is, that post online is blowing up.
"Even though it doesn't mention any names, people in the hospital are already connecting the dots. He doesn't want this to damage the hospital's reputation or mess with admissions."
"What did he suggest?" I asked.
Peter looked at me. "He said, 'If Dr. Jenkins' refusal was really for professional reasons, then the best thing would be to handle it in a way that looks good for everyone.
"For example, have another mentor take Cindy on, and let this whole thing blow over.' That's it."
"So what, he wants me to just pretend to give in?"
"Pretty much. He's not forcing you to change your decision, but he's hinting that if this keeps blowing up, it could affect your annual review and your research applications."
I was silent for five seconds.
"Dr. Shaw, what do you think?" I asked.
Peter let out a sigh. "You're my protégé. I know your style.
"But Harmony General Hospital isn't some perfect place. Max's words aren't an order, but they're not just for show either. You need to think this through."
"And if I don't give in?" I asked.
"Then you'd better brace yourself for a tough fight."
I stood up. "Thanks, Dr. Shaw. I know what to do."
"What are you going to do?" Peter asked.
I looked at him. "I don't need to back down. I was never in the wrong to begin with."
Peter looked at me for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Alright, go ahead. If you need anything, come find me."
I walked out of his office, my steps firmer than when I came in.
'They really thought some pressure would make me fold. They had no clue what I had survived these past three years.
Even being stabbed in the back by the people closest to me couldn't break me.
So what if a bunch of strangers were gossiping, or some associate dean was dropping hints?