Grumpy Doctor

“And you approved it,” he said, looking at Gina. “That gets conveniently left out of the story.”

“We gave you too much leeway,” she said. “That was a mistake.”

“I guess that means you’re liable then.”

Gina shook her head. “We have to suspend you, Piers. I’m sorry.”

“This is prelude to you throwing me under the bus. You’re going to make me look like the bad guy, all so that the hospital can escape paying out too much money to those rich assholes, as if they need the cash. You know Robert Tippett is playing you both, right?”

Caroline looked uncomfortable. “Please, Dr. Hood. We don’t have to go down this road.”

“I want to.” His voice was level, but sharp. “I’m a pawn in that family’s game, and you’re sacrificing me for your own gain. You want prestige, or donations, or all of the above. And you don’t care if you throw out your best surgeon to do it.”

“Enough,” Gina said, her own anger rising. “This is entirely inappropriate, especially in front of your resident. You will be suspended, Piers, starting this afternoon. Pack up and go home.” Gina pushed past him and stormed down the hallway.

Caroline sighed and shook her head. “Sorry, Dr. Hood,” she said. “This is for the best.” She followed after Gina, glancing at me with pity in her eyes.

I stared at Piers, not sure what to say.

“They were coming sooner or later,” he said, staring down at the beige patterned carpet. “And I guess it was sooner.”

“They can’t do this.” The words tumbled out, but I knew they weren’t true as soon as I spoke them. I felt like an impotent child—the teachers had taken away something I cared about, and now I wanted to rage at them and shout about how unfair the world could be.

And still nothing would change, no matter what I did.

“They can,” he said. “We both know they can.”

“How are you standing there taking it? Why aren’t you doing something?”

His gaze came up, hot and angry. “What do you want me to do? Run around the hospital, complaining?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Something, anything. You can’t let them toss you out of here.”

“It’s just a suspension.”

“We both know that you’re never coming back from this.”

He flinched away from me like I’d punched him in the gut. He leaned up against the door to his office, one hand on the frame, and hunched over slightly. I thought he might be sick, but instead, he looked at the floor for a long, quiet moment.

“The notes they’re talking about. It’s bullshit. It’s not real.”

“I believe you.” I stepped closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing right now,” he said, shaking me off and moving away.

I felt like he’d kicked me in the ribs. I clutched at myself like I really did feel pain. I wanted to help him, desperately wanted to do something that might change whatever was happening—and yet he didn’t seem to want to do anything about it.

That hurt most of all. Now that he really had to fight, he was turning away and giving up.

Which was such a waste. He was a gifted surgeon, one of the best in the world, definitely the best I’d ever seen. He could do things that I didn’t even think were possible, and with the lightest touch, leaving the smallest scars, the gentlest traces of his scalpel. He was a magician in the operating room, and yet these people were forcing him out for political expedience—and for money.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked, feeling unmoored and adrift.

“Go find Dr. Baker,” he said. “Join the other residents. Keep moving forward.”

“Piers—”

“Juist go,” he said, not looking at me. “I’m finished. There’s nothing I can do about this. I tried to change, but that wasn’t enough. So just go.”

I took a step back away from him, heart thudding. I didn’t want to leave him, but he wasn’t acting like himself—like the confident, strong man I’d grown so close to over the last few months.

He sounded hollow and broken. It wrecked me and I thought my heart might rip itself out through my throat.

“Piers—”

“Just go,” he said, his voice hard. “Go before you say or do something stupid.”

I turned and walked away. I didn’t want to and each step felt like it burned my lungs, but I kept going, away and away, until I left him there alone in the hall, and I went to find the other residents, numb and swirling with emotion. The rest of the day was a blur—questions from Dr. Baker, a brief visit from Gina, but none of it seemed to stick.

All I could do was think about Piers, and it felt as though the world had come to a stop, and I was flung out into space.