Chapter 1

I was still in a daze when the Medical Affairs Office took me away.

I tried to explain. "Look, ER sent up a critical patient right then. It was life or death, so I reallocated that wonder drug to save him. The standard alternative was more than enough for Chief Hardy's procedure."

"Did you clear it with anyone?"

My mouth opened, but the words died in my throat.

The patient was in critical condition. When I asked in the operating room, no one objected, but no one backed me up, either.

I just never expected Dante Nelson, the intern, to use this as a weapon against me.

Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Dante had posted an announcement to the department group chat.

"Attention everyone. Effective immediately, all special medication requests for the department must be reviewed and signed off by me. No unapproved drugs will be issued. Please help enforce this so we can keep our medical protocols tight."

I frowned.

Dante was the standout student Cristina Hardy, our department head, had handpicked from the undergrads, claiming he had raw talent worth nurturing.

Since when did he get to call the shots for her?

The junior doctors and residents lined up behind him.

"Honestly, Dr. Carver's pretty reckless with prescriptions…"

"Right? Last time he ordered those imported consumables when domestic ones were a third of the price. Totally overkill."

"And he only ever pulls special meds for his own patients. He never asks if the rest of us need them."

As I scrolled through the messages, my fingers trembled slightly.

I trained these people myself, guiding them through surgery after surgery and staying up countless nights helping them write patient charts.

And this was the thanks I got.

Dante tagged everyone again in the group chat.

"Just a reminder: I need to sign off on every special drug request moving forward. You'll need to include a detailed write-up, and anything over 200 dollars requires three days' advance notice."

Another wave of brown-nosing flooded the chat.

My mind drifted back to last month's department meeting.

Chief Hardy had warned us that our drug expenditure ratio was way over budget, urging everyone to cut back.

I had told them I had free doses available through my research project that the patients could use in the meantime.

No one had said a thing.

At the time, I thought they were just being thoughtful. Now I realized they probably thought I was flexing.

Sure, I had plenty of research projects running. But that was because I was the only one in the department capable of leading them independently.

Even the clinical trials Chief Hardy pulled in had my name specified as lead.

They saw it as favoritism, whispering behind my back that I was throwing my weight around.

They conveniently forgot that when Dr. Sofia Martin was preparing for the board exam last year, I put together half her notes, highlighting the key topics.

They forgot that when Dr. Jacob Gibson was up for promotion to attending doctor two years ago, I pulled three months of late nights helping him rewrite his thesis from scratch.

Back when our department was desperately short on equipment and couldn't even afford a new defibrillator, I secured additional funding from Grandma's dedicated medical fund.

By the time the Medical Affairs Office finished grilling me, dusk was falling.

I could only head home to wait for the verdict.

My phone buzzed again. It was a text from Chief Hardy.

"I heard about the Medical Affairs Office. I'm heading to Jerandale for a closed-door medical symposium. I'll be unreachable while I'm there, so handle it yourself."

My grip tightened around the phone.

Her subordinate got thrown under the bus, and all she left me with was "handle it yourself"?

I tried to type a reply. My fingers hovered over the screen, but I didn't know what to say.

Finally, I typed back a single word. "Okay."