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"Come back to Mexico. Your little sister is going to be married off to a rich man from Europe. I know you hate her, even though you have different mothers, you're still siblings. I'm waiting for your return with your fiance, that American man."
I let out a long sigh as I read my father's message, and then suddenly I heard a strange noise. The sound came faintly from the end of the third floor ICU hallway. At first I thought it was just a television or a patient moaning in pain, but my steps stopped when the sound grew clearer. Muffled gasps and the sound of skin rubbing against skin from behind the staff bathroom door. I walked closer with trembling hands. The bathroom door had an "Out of Service" sign on it, but through the gap beneath the door, the shadows of two people moved wildly, and then I heard the man's voice. "Olivia..." My body went completely numb. It was Ethan, my boyfriend. A neurosurgeon. And Olivia Carter was our mutual friend. A cardiologist who'd been having dinner with us almost every week for years. The bathroom door wasn't locked. My hand touched the handle and I pushed it open. The door swung open and for the first few seconds, nothing moved, but my eyes saw everything. Ethan stood near the sink. His white shirt was still on his body, but the top three buttons were wide open, revealing his sweat-damp chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His belt was already undone, his pants halfway down. Olivia was leaning against the sink in front of him. Her doctor's suit was already on the floor. Behind her, her slip, red, had fallen to her ankles, paired with black stockings torn at the knees. She wasn't wearing anything under that doctor's coat. One of Olivia's legs was lifted, wrapped around Ethan's waist. Her hands gripped the wall tiles behind his head. Her long curly hair, usually tied up neatly, was now loose, tangled, sticking to her sweaty cheeks and neck. Her face was half-turned toward the door as the light from the hallway flooded the room. Her eyes were wide open and for a moment, I saw everything. I saw how Ethan's body was still joined with Olivia's. I saw how Olivia's thighs were slick, how Ethan's hands were still gripping Olivia's hips tightly. I also heard Olivia let out a soft moan in that last second before awareness hit, a tiny, barely audible gasp, a vibration in her throat that made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Camila?" Ethan's voice came out half-choked. He finally released Olivia. His large hands grabbed at his pants, trying to cover what was already exposed before my eyes. "So this is why you two are always working late together? In hospital bathrooms?" I asked. Olivia quickly straightened her doctor's coat. "Just listen!" "Shut up!" I stared at Ethan as if he were a stranger. Five years. Five years I'd been with Ethan, five years we'd been dating, and I believed he'd be my husband someday. "You're disgusting," I said. "This isn't what you think," Ethan said. "Oh yeah? So I saw wrong?" "Camila, please!" "I'm reporting this to the hospital director. You two are having inappropriate relations in a medical area," I said. "Don't do this," Olivia said. "Why? Afraid your careers will be ruined?" Olivia crossed her arms over her chest. "You really think the director will believe you?" I frowned. "What do you mean?" "You honestly think we weren't prepared for the day you'd find out?" Olivia asked with a cynical smile, and somehow I felt something bad was about to happen to me. The next day. I sat in the hospital's ethics committee hearing room with cold hands and a pale face. In front of me sat five hospital executives, including Director Richard Coleman. A thick file lay on the table. My name was written in large letters there. Dr. Camila López. I still couldn't believe all of this had happened so fast. "Dr. Camila López, do you deny that over the past several months, you've been using benzodiazepine-type sedatives without official reporting to the hospital?" "I've been taking anti-anxiety medication, but it was prescribed by a doctor," I said. "But you never reported it to the hospital." "I never endangered any patients. I was still working fine," I said. "An ER doctor dependent on sedatives is still considered a risk." "I do have a prescription for anti-anxiety medication from my psychiatrist, but the dose is low, and I never..." "Low dose?" Director Coleman interrupted. He pulled out a piece of paper and placed it on the table. "Your blood test results show a benzodiazepine level high enough to incapacitate someone your size. That's not a low dose." That's impossible. I only took 0.5 mg, the lowest dose prescribed for patients with mild anxiety disorders. I turned to the corner of the room. Ethan sat there with Olivia. They were both calm. Olivia even crossed her legs elegantly, her fingers tapping on the arm of her chair. "That's not possible. Someone tampered with it," I said. "We also have CCTV footage from three separate incidents where you're seen putting something into your mouth in the staff room, in your office, and in the bathroom," the director said. Director Coleman pressed a button on his laptop. The screen on the wall lit up. First video: Me in the staff room, opening a water bottle, then putting something in my mouth? I remember it was a mint. I'd just finished a long shift and my mouth tasted bitter. Second video: Me in my office, drinking from my coffee mug while reading patient files. I remember there were no pills, just black coffee. Third video: Me in the public restroom. CCTV in a bathroom? That's illegal! I was holding a small bottle. But in that video, the image was blurry. I couldn't see details, just my silhouette holding something. "That's not sedatives! That's mints and coffee!" I said. "Then what about this bottle?" Director Coleman pulled out a transparent plastic bag. Inside was a pill bottle. Name on the label: Dr. Camila López. Prescription date: three months ago. Type of medication: Alprazolam 2 mg. I never took alprazolam. I stared at the bottle, then at Ethan. "I never took that medication. Someone put it in my locker. I want a lawyer..." "You're already represented by the hospital's lawyer and your lawyer has advised full cooperation." I stared at the lawyer beside me, the man who wouldn't even look at me. He wasn't my lawyer. He was someone the hospital sent to make sure I didn't drag this hearing out. Traitors everywhere. "Alright, in addition to illegal sedative use, you're also accused of making false accusations against colleagues Dr. Ethan Reed and Dr. Olivia Carter regarding alleged inappropriate relations in hospital facilities," the director said. My eyes widened. False accusations? "I saw them having sex in the staff bathroom," I said. "We've reviewed the staff bathroom footage from the night you mentioned. No suspicious activity was recorded. The bathroom was empty." "Because they deleted the footage!" I almost screamed. The atmosphere in the room grew tense. Director Coleman stared at me with a warning look. "I suggest you control yourself." From the corner of the room, Olivia spoke for the first time. "Dr. López has indeed been showing unstable behavior lately. Many staff members were concerned. She's often been seen confused, easily angered, and once nearly dropped a patient in the ER because her hands were shaking." "That's a lie!" I said. Olivia shrugged as Director Coleman sighed. "Based on the evidence presented, blood test results, CCTV footage, testimony from Dr. Reed and Dr. Carter, and your medical records, the ethics committee finds Dr. Camila López guilty of severe ethical violations. Your practicing privileges at St. Augustine Medical Center are revoked effective today." "Furthermore, the national ethics committee has received this report. You will be placed on the national watchlist for physicians with a history of substance misuse. For the time being, you are not permitted to work at any hospital in the United States until further evaluation." Blacklist. They destroyed my career and my life. I stared at Ethan one last time before I stood up. The man I'd loved for five years wouldn't look at me. "Someday, you'll both pay for all of this," I said as I left the room.The airport in Mexico City felt hot even though the air conditioning inside the terminal was on full blast. I dragged my suitcase through the arrival gates.My father had already sent a driver. An old man with a thick mustache greeted me with a cold nod.The drive to my parents' house took forty minutes.My parents' house was still the same. Not a single coat of paint had changed. White walls with red tiles, a small garden out front overgrown with purple bougainvillea, a wooden swing on the porch that had rusted from years of disuse.I walked past my stepmother without saying a word. I dragged my suitcase myself through the narrow hallway to the room at the end, then went in and closed the door.I left the suitcase lying near the closet. My body fell onto the bed, my face staring up at the cracked ceiling. There were voices outside, my father and stepmother whispering, unclear, but their tone wasn't friendly. I didn't care. I didn't want to talk to anyone.My hand reached for my phone
I woke up at six this morning. I put on a white blouse and a long gray skirt, the most professional outfit left in my closet. I brushed my hair, put on a little lipstick, trying to look like a doctor worth interviewing even though my license was suspended.First clinic on the outskirts of town."We need a general practitioner, but your license is under review?" said the clinic owner, a middle-aged woman with thick glasses."Yes, but I can help...""Sorry, we can't take that risk."Second clinic, a private clinic in a shopping mall."Your name is on the national watchlist?"I took a breath. "It's only temporary. I haven't been found guilty legally.""This list was issued by the ethics committee. We can't."Third clinic, fourth clinic, fifth clinic. They all rejected me.I gave up for today.I sat at a bus stop, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sleek black luxury car with dark tinted windows that made it impossible to see who was inside.I'd been seeing that car since morning.F
Now, I sat in silence at a small cafe in the city center. My face felt stiff from tears that had dried and then fallen again, alternating all night long.My career was ruined. The name I'd worked so hard to build over eight years of medical school, all of it vanished in a single ethics hearing that lasted less than two hours.And I'd never done any of what they accused me of.My phone buzzed on the table. My father's name appeared on the screen.I almost didn't answer it. My hand trembled as I picked up the phone, my finger hesitating over the green button. But I knew my father wouldn't stop calling until I picked up. He was a persistent man, one of the reasons he'd succeeded as a businessman."Father," I said, my voice hoarse."Camila, your father has heard everything.""How did you...""The hospital called me. They said your license was revoked. They said you were recommended for rehab. I didn't know you'd become like this. Drugs? You're taking drugs?""That's not true. They framed
"Come back to Mexico. Your little sister is going to be married off to a rich man from Europe. I know you hate her, even though you have different mothers, you're still siblings. I'm waiting for your return with your fiance, that American man."I let out a long sigh as I read my father's message, and then suddenly I heard a strange noise.The sound came faintly from the end of the third floor ICU hallway.At first I thought it was just a television or a patient moaning in pain, but my steps stopped when the sound grew clearer. Muffled gasps and the sound of skin rubbing against skin from behind the staff bathroom door.I walked closer with trembling hands. The bathroom door had an "Out of Service" sign on it, but through the gap beneath the door, the shadows of two people moved wildly, and then I heard the man's voice."Olivia..."My body went completely numb.It was Ethan, my boyfriend. A neurosurgeon. And Olivia Carter was our mutual friend. A cardiologist who'd been having dinner w







