Chapter 2

I hadn't even reached the medical affairs office when I heard my colleague's strained voice coming from inside.

"Ma'am, we're not refusing to help. It's simply that there is no doctor here named Sherry Olsen," said a nurse.

Renee's voice shot up to a shrill pitch. "Stop covering for her! She drew my blood yesterday, witnessed by some nurses!"

The moment I pushed the door open, her eyes lit up with malicious delight. "Look who decided to show up!"

The nurse blinked in confusion. "Her? She's our new..."

"Exactly! She's new! Just look at what she did to my arm!" Renee interrupted, yanking up her sleeve.

The injection site was swollen and angry red, dotted with hives.

"It hurt when she inserted the needle. I complained a little, and she deliberately ground the cotton ball into the wound!" she protested. "The surveillance footage will prove it. Now I can't even bend my arm. This is affecting my ability to grade papers. Isn't this medical malpractice?"

It was an obvious allergic reaction she had almost certainly manufactured herself—a setup to frame me.

The nurse took a steadying breath. "Let me take you for an examination first. Then we can discuss compensation."

Renee jerked her sleeve down, shaking her head. "No need. I didn't come here to extort you. I have two demands. First, suspend this incompetent doctor immediately. Second, my pregnant daughter has developed a baffling illness that no one can diagnose. I hear your new director of obstetrics and gynecology is outstanding. I want her to be my daughter's attending physician."

She paused for dramatic effect. "I already reported this to the Health Commission. Cooperate, and I'll withdraw the complaint. Refuse, and I will escalate all the way to the top and camp out here every single day."

The nurse was speechless, her expression hovering between disbelief and dark amusement.

I looked Renee straight in the eye. "You're a respected educator. Don't you feel embarrassed behaving like a fishwife?"

Her gaze flickered, but she lifted her chin. "Everything I do is for my daughter. It's worth it."

I remembered a time in middle school when the home teacher mistakenly thought I was dating someone. In her anger, she demanded that my parents come in for a meeting, but they were too proud to show up.

"Please, Mom, I'm not dating anyone. You need to explain this to my teacher," I pleaded tearfully. "If you don't go, she'll just get angrier."

Instead of helping, she slapped me hard across the face. "You deserve that for your misconduct! This is your problem, not mine."

That entire day, I was barred from entering class while the boy's parents and the teachers banded together to scold me, their voices echoing in my ears like a relentless drumbeat.

I never expected Renee to set aside her pride one day. Sadly, it wasn't for me.

"The director of our hospital is on his way. Just wait for a while," I said, crossing my arms.

I picked up the medical file she had slammed onto the table and leafed through it. Cora's symptoms matched the rare gestational hormonal disorder I was currently researching.

She had already slipped into a coma; both mother and child were at risk of dying within two weeks if left untreated.

I was still reading when Renee snatched the folder away, sulking, "What are you doing? You think you can understand this? This is for Dr. Coffey to read!"

Just then, Director Robert Franklin walked in, glancing at me, then at her. "Dr. Coffey? Isn't that who you're looking for?"