Chapter 2

Dr. Keller's office sat at the end of the administration wing. A brass plaque on the door read: [PRESIDENT'S OFFICE.]

He'd been in hospital administration for twenty years. Whenever backlash hit, his first instinct was always to fold.

"Dr. Altman, I told you from the start this flexible rotation system would become a problem."

He set his mug down too hard, coffee sloshing over the edge.

"Now look at this. The entire internet is dragging the hospital. The Oversight Office wants accountability. Serious accountability."

"Dr. Keller, Rainee's attendance record—"

"Attendance isn't the issue." He waved me off. "Public opinion is. Do you know how many complaint calls we got this morning? Sixty-two. Eleven came straight from the Borevia Hospital Oversight Office."

I stayed quiet.

He took a sip of coffee, voice softening. "I'm giving you two choices. First, submit a written reflection, end the flexible rotation system, and go back to fixed scheduling. Second, request a temporary reassignment to GME and keep your head down until this dies out."

GME. Graduate Medical Education.

"If I write the reflection, this disappears?"

"It disappears for the hospital." He lowered his mug. "As for online? Time handles that. People move on fast. In a week there'll be another scandal. Nobody'll even remember who Rainee is."

I didn't answer.

He sighed. "Dr. Altman, you've held this position for six years. You should know when it's time to keep your head down."

I stood up. "I'll think about it."

When I walked out of the administration building, Dr. Bishop was waiting at the bottom of the steps. He looked pale.

"Dr. Altman, you need to see this."

He turned his phone toward me. Two social media posts filled the screen.

The first was from our Associate Chief, Dr. Lowe:

[Been at this hospital 15 years and yeah, I'm finally gonna say it. The "flexible rotation system" only works because younger doctors get stuck carrying the extra call. If the chief texts you at midnight asking you to come in, are you really saying no? Because good luck getting promoted after that. Rainee said what a lot of people have been thinking for years.]

The second was from attending physician Dr. Reed:

[Not gonna lie, the flexible schedule helped me a lot as a parent. I got to be there for my kids way more. I appreciated that. But that flexibility didn't come out of nowhere. Interns ended up taking the hit for it. Rainee just said the quiet part out loud.]

Both posts used the same hashtag.

#InternsAreNotFreeLabor#

I handed the phone back to Dr. Bishop.

"Do you have Dr. Lowe's schedule from last month?"

"Yeah." He scrolled through the records. "He was assigned six night shifts. Worked two. The other four got pushed onto interns. Rainee personally covered two of them."

"And Dr. Reed?"

"When his wife had a baby last year, you cut his night shifts for three months. His pay stayed the same. Interns covered every shift he missed."

I nodded.

He looked at me. "Dr. Altman, what do we do?"

"When's the Oversight Office coming?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Good. Let them come."

"And Dr. Lowe and Dr. Reed—"

"Leave it."

I glanced at my phone again.

Rainee had already posted another update. This time it was a live photo of the ER entrance.

[Oversight Office is coming tomorrow to investigate. Hopefully interns finally get the justice we deserve.]

One comment read:

[You think Dr. Altman's gonna retaliate after this?]

Rainee replied with one line.

[She wouldn't dare.]

I slipped my phone into my coat pocket.

Dr. Bishop still stood there, hesitating.

"Something else?"

"Dr. Altman, if I may ask... how are you planning to handle this?"

I looked at the livestreamer outside the ER, his camera pointed at the glowing emergency sign.

"You'll see tomorrow."

I headed back inside. As I passed the nurses' station, the charge nurse handed me a sheet.

"Dr. Altman, Rainee's schedule for tomorrow. Does she scrub into surgery?"

I glanced at it, then handed it back.

"No. Let her rest."

The nurse paused. "But her surgical hours this month—"

"It's fine. Let her rest."

I walked into my office and shut the door.

My phone buzzed again.

Patrick. My contact at the Borevia Hospital Oversight Office.

[Amelia, leadership is watching this closely. The federal official is coming in person tomorrow. Be prepared.]

I replied with one word.

[Okay.]

Then I turned my phone off.

Outside, the sky had gone fully bright. The ER sign faded in the morning light, but the phones still livestreaming by the entrance glowed like fireflies stuck to the wall.