Chapter 3

At nine the next morning, the Oversight Office showed up right on time with the federal lead.

Simon Grant. Assistant Secretary at the Federal Department of Health. Early forties. Gold-rimmed glasses. Every word careful and controlled. Two junior staffers followed behind him carrying briefcases.

Dr. Keller greeted them personally at the entrance to the administration building and walked them to the main conference room.

"Dr. Grant, thank you for coming all this way."

"Of course." Simon sat down and pulled a stack of printed documents from his briefcase. "Is Dr. Altman here?"

"I am."

I walked in and took the seat across from him.

He slid the papers toward me. "We've received a high volume of public complaints claiming your ER's flexible rotation system pushed interns into excessive unpaid overtime. These are copies of the submitted materials. Please review them."

I flipped through the pages.

The first was a screenshot of Rainee's social media post. The second was Dr. Lowe's post. The third was Dr. Reed's. The rest were packed with screenshots of online complaints. At least forty pages total.

"Dr. Altman, what's your response?"

"What documentation would you like?"

He adjusted his glasses, caught slightly off guard. "What documentation do you have?"

I slid a prepared folder across the table.

"These are the rotation schedules, attendance records, and night shift approval forms for every intern in our department over the last six months. Every night-shift stipend has the intern's signature confirming they were paid. And this—" I tapped the last section. "—is Rainee's rotation record from the same period."

Simon flipped through a few pages, frowning.

"Assigned twelve night shifts, attended three?"

"Yes. Her night shift completion rate was twenty-five percent. The other nine were covered by interns and residents."

"And the people in her photo? Sleeping outside the OR at two in the morning?"

"They were covering her shifts."

Simon stayed quiet for over ten seconds.

One of the junior staffers leaned over to check the records. The two exchanged a look.

"Dr. Altman," Simon said, closing the folder, "objectively speaking, your documentation shows no issue with how the flexible rotation system was handled."

"But—"

"But," he cut in, "the public fallout is already serious. We've received over three hundred complaints. The state Oversight Office phone lines have been flooded since yesterday. We can't ignore that."

"So the system isn't the problem. The problem is that people found out about it?"

He exhaled slowly. "I trained as a physician. I understand your position. But right now, if you don't take visible action, I can't justify this to my superiors."

"What do you suggest?"

"A formal adjustment. End the flexible rotation system. Go back to fixed scheduling. At minimum, the public needs to see changes being made."

I just looked at him.

He hesitated, then added, "I know this isn't fair. But public pressure doesn't always follow logic."

"Fine."

He blinked. "What?"

"I said fine. We'll change it."

Simon blinked, obviously not expecting me to agree that fast.

"Then the corrective report—"

"On your desk in three days."

He stood and held out his hand. "I know this puts you in a difficult position. But for now, this is the best resolution."

I shook his hand. "I'm not the one being wronged."

He studied me for a second, then left with the two junior staffers.

Dr. Keller rushed after them, his voice echoing down the hallway.

"Dr. Grant, take care! We should do dinner sometime!"

I stayed in the conference room, staring out the window.

Dr. Bishop peeked into the conference room.

"Dr. Altman, you're really canceling the flexible rotation system?"

"Yes."

"How?"

I pulled out my phone, opened the ER group chat, and started typing.

"The thorough way."

Ten minutes later, a voice message dropped into the ER group chat:

"In response to the Oversight Office's corrective request, the flexible rotation system will be fully discontinued effective tomorrow. All physicians, interns, and residents will return to fixed scheduling. Clock-in and clock-out times will strictly follow hospital attendance policy.

"Any lateness or early departure will be handled under standard attendance rules. All interns are reassigned from frontline clinical duties to GME for three months of didactic study.

"During this period, interns will not participate in clinical work."

The group chat went dead silent.

Then it blew up.

[What?! Reassigned out of clinical work? What happens to my residency rotation record?]

[Three months out of clinic? How am I supposed to sit for boards next year?]

[My end-of-rotation eval is next month, and now I'm getting sent to GME?]

[What about the OR schedule? We have four elective cases tomorrow!]

The messages came faster and faster.

I flipped my phone face-down on the table.

Dr. Bishop shoved the door open, pale. "Dr. Altman, this decision—"

"What?"

"Rainee just replied in the group chat."

I turned the phone back over.

Her response was one sentence. [Dr. Altman, this is retaliation.]

Then another line popped up beneath it. [I recorded this.]

Dr. Bishop looked from the screen to me. "If she posts this online..."

I said nothing.

Outside, sunlight hit the ER sign, flashing bright white across the windows.