Chapter 2

I never expected Alicia to use that rule against me.

Just then, the operating room doors burst open. A nurse stuck her head out, panic written all over her face.

"Head nurse, Ms. Grant! The director, Edward Johnson, wants to know if the consent form's been signed. The anesthesia window is almost over! If we delay any longer, the patient could be in serious danger!"

Without even turning around, Alicia barked back, "Tell Dr. Johnson the guardian's identity is suspicious. Possible impersonation. For the patient's safety, suspend the surgery. We'll wait for the police to verify everything!"

She spun around and pointed straight at me, shouting at the top of her lungs.

"Who knows where this guy came from? Maybe he's some con artist trying to trick the hospital into operating on some random girl! Keep an eye on him. I've already called the police. Don't let him run!"

I took a slow breath, pulled my phone from my backpack, and started recording.

The camera focused steadily on her face.

"Head nurse, Ms. Grant, is it? This is the last time I'm asking. Are you refusing to let me sign the surgical consent form for my daughter?"

She froze for a second when she saw the camera, then let out a mocking laugh, as if I were an idiot.

"Oh? Planning to post a video and scam some compensation? Who do you think you're showing that to? Let me tell you: it won't work."

She probably thought I was just trying to stir up trouble and collect evidence. It only made her bolder.

Staring straight into my lens, she enunciated every word.

"Yes. I refuse. Because I suspect you're not her father. I suspect you're a trafficker. I've called the police. You can explain yourself to them at the station."

Just as the security guard started toward me, rubber baton in hand, a sharp, impatient voice cut through the crowd.

"What's going on here? Is this a hospital or a marketplace?"

The crowd parted.

Edward Johnson from the emergency department stepped forward slowly.

I had heard about him. He had no real skill to speak of, but he certainly knew how to accept "gifts".

He gave me a quick once-over, and a flicker of disdain flashed in his eyes.

"I'm very sorry," he said smoothly. "Our head nurse is straightforward by nature. She's very responsible. She may have spoken a bit harshly. Please bear with her."

He said the words, but there was not a shred of apology in his gaze.

My daughter was lying inside that operating room, fighting for her life. There was no way I could stay calm.

"My daughter is in there waiting for surgery, yet your head nurse is calling me a trafficker and refusing to let me sign. Dr. Johnson, is this what you call being responsible?"

Edward put on a sympathetic but helpless look and said, "Sir, please don't be upset. We do have our reasons. Our hospital recently introduced a brand-new risk assessment system. In your case, it triggered a red alert.

"We have no choice. According to protocol, we must pause and verify before proceeding."

I let out a humorless laugh.

Verify?

They might be able to afford the wait, but what about my daughter?

What kind of absurd 'risk assessment system' was this?

Since when was there a policy that allowed you to watch a patient suffer while you waited for paperwork?

No. They were not following protocol.

They were afraid to operate.

At that moment, my patience snapped.

"Dr. Johnson," I said flatly, done playing along. "I don't care about your systems or your procedures. Every minute my daughter waits inside that room increases her risk. Today, I am signing that form, and this surgery is happening."

The smile on Edward's face vanished instantly. The pretense of kindness dissolved.

"Sir," he said coldly, "I advise you to calm down. This is a hospital. There are protocols we need to adhere to. If you continue to cause a disturbance, we'll have no choice but to treat this as medical harassment."