Chapter 2: The Boardroom Betrayal

"Surgery’s canceled. You and Ben, come with me."

My tone left no room for argument. I grabbed my clipboard and headed for the door, not bothering to check if they were following.

Barely containing my anger, I stormed back to the department. Halfway there, the department secretary rushed over. "Dr. Monroe, the administrator wants to see you right now."

She was out of breath, clutching a stack of forms to her chest. Her voice was nervous, like she expected me to bite her head off. I nodded curtly, feeling the familiar weight of hospital politics settle on my shoulders.

Perfect. Just what I needed. I told the head nurse and Ben to wait for me in the department and followed the secretary to the administrator’s office.

I squared my shoulders, bracing myself. The hallway felt longer than usual, every fluorescent bulb buzzing overhead. My shoes squeaked on the linoleum, echoing my irritation with every step.

The moment I walked in, the administrator barked, "Who told you to cancel the surgery?"

His face was red, veins bulging at his temples. He didn’t even look up from his computer. The air in his office was thick with stale coffee and tension.

The head nurse sure worked fast.

I made a mental note: never underestimate her again. News traveled faster than a code blue around here.

I said, "The OR was contaminated and needs to be prepped again. Hospital rules say the surgery must be canceled."

I kept my voice steady, reciting policy like a lawyer in court. I watched his jaw work as he tried to come up with a retort.

The administrator, clearly annoyed, pointed at the sofa. "Rules are rules, but you’ve got to use your head. It’s easy for you to just cancel a surgery, but do you know how much trouble you’ve caused the hospital? Get the surgery back on track right now, don’t delay the patient’s treatment."

He gestured to the leather sofa, but I stayed standing. His words dripped with condescension. My blood pressure ticked higher.

"Administrator, I remember you worked in cardiothoracic surgery, too. You know exactly what your words mean, right?"

I locked eyes with him, refusing to back down. The unspoken rules of the OR ran deeper than any memo from upstairs, and we both knew it. I wasn’t moving an inch.

The administrator paused mid-pour, then slammed his coffee mug on the table. "Dr. Monroe, if you have a problem with me, take it up with the hospital board. How can you let your feelings get in the way of your work? You have to be responsible to the patient, to your profession, to—"

He cut himself off, but I caught the flicker of guilt in his eyes. The mug rattled, splashing coffee onto a stack of folders. He didn’t even notice.

"To Autumn Daniels?"

His expression faded. Now I knew I’d struck a nerve. He glared at me, lips pressed thin. The room felt colder, the tension sharp as a scalpel. I’d hit a nerve, and he knew it.

"Administrator, if you want the surgery to go ahead, you should notify Dr. Daniels—she’s the lead surgeon now. What’s it got to do with me?"

I folded my arms, waiting for his answer. He looked at me like I’d grown a second head, but I didn’t blink.

"You do seven or eight surgeries a day. Is it so hard to give one to the next generation? You’re a leader, you should set an example. Look at you, fighting for credit with your juniors."

He leaned back in his chair, trying to sound reasonable. But his words were hollow, and we both knew it. The room felt smaller with every sentence.

"Administrator, I’m responsible for my surgeries, for my patients, for my profession. But I’m not obligated to cover for certain people. If you think I’m out of line, you can discipline me. I need to check on my patient—excuse me."

I turned on my heel, heart pounding. I refused to let him see how much this stung. My hands shook, but I kept them at my sides. The anger simmered just below the surface.

I stood up to leave. The administrator, now exasperated, muttered under his breath, "Don’t think you’re hot stuff just because they call you a hotshot with a scalpel. This is Maple Heights Medical—there are plenty of doctors better than you…"

His words trailed off as I closed the door behind me. I let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of his resentment settle over me. I’d heard it all before, but it never got easier.

I rarely clashed with the administrator, but this fit the impression I had of him.

He was always more interested in appearances than outcomes. A numbers guy, through and through. I’d spent years dodging his memos and sidestepping his pet projects. Today, it felt like the end of the line.

Back in the department, the head nurse couldn’t wait. "Dr. Monroe! If you have something to say, hurry up—I’ve got a ton of work to do."

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, toe tapping. I could tell she was itching to get back to her rounds. I couldn’t blame her.

"Then go. Nothing to discuss."

I waved her off, voice flat. No sense dragging her into this mess.

She rolled her eyes and left, pulling the door shut behind her.

The door thudded shut, leaving a faint echo. For a second, I almost laughed. At least someone here still had their priorities straight.