"This isn't about ethics or proper methodology or patient safety. This is about ego."
Rachel watched Derek's jaw flexed once.
He clicked to a video. Cole on the ice, skating at full speed, executing complex plays, his shoulder working perfectly, shooting, checking, raising the stick high for a celebration.
"This is me two weeks ago. My shoulder works. I'm playing professional hockey again. The career Dr. Derek Matthews told me to abandon."
The applause started scattered but grew into a roar.
Derek stood abruptly, his voice rising defensively. "Mr. Hansen, I gave you my professional assessment based on the evidence and extensive clinical experience. Medical opinions can differ between practitioners—"
"Can they?" Cole's voice cut through the noise like a knife. "Or did you just make the wrong call and then spend six months trying to discredit the physical therapist who proved you wrong?"
"Your outcome is certainly fortunate," Derek said. "But one successful case doesn't invalidate my clinical judgment—"
"One successful case?" Cole's tone went quiet, the kind of quiet that came before violence. "I'm not finished, Dr.Matthews. You want to talk about methodology? About clinical judgment? Let's talk about your methodology. Your pattern of destroying anyone who makes you look bad."
Rachel felt Mac squeeze her hand tighter as Jamie practically bounced to the podium, his laptop in hand, his manic energy barely contained.
"This is Jamie Lawson," Cole said, gesturing to Jamie. "He's been doing some digging. What he found..." Cole's jaw tightened. "Well. You'll see for yourselves."
Jamie set his laptop down. He didn't look like the class clown today. He looked dangerous.
"Hi everyone," Jamie said, his voice echoing in the hall. "I'm Jamie. I play forward for the Eagles, and I’m really good at research. Which is perfect, because I wanted to know if Ellie Winters was the first person Dr. Matthews has attacked for having a different opinion."
The projector hummed, casting a harsh blue rectangle of light onto the pull-down screen. Dust motes danced in the beam.
"She wasn't," Jamie said. "In the last fifteen years, Derek Matthews has filed formal complaints against seven different physical therapists across three states. Seven."
A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd.
Jamie clicked the remote. A timeline appeared on the screen, dotted with names and dates.
"Meet Sarah Rodriguez, Marcus Smith, and Jennifer Walsh," Jamie said, pointing to the photos on the screen. "Three practitioners with clean records. Until they crossed Dr. Matthews. He filed complaints against all of them. He wrote articles questioning their ethics. He systematically dismantled their reputations."
Jamie leaned on the podium, looking directly at Derek.
"Sarah lost her practice. Marcus had his license suspended for sixteen months before being cleared. Jennifer left the profession entirely. The pattern is always the same: they disagree with him, he destroys them."
"This is absurd," Derek answered. "These were legitimate professional concerns—"
"Were they?" Jamie cut him off. "Because it seems strange that the 'concerned professional' has such a messy record himself."
Jamie clicked to the next slide.
Rachel heard the collective gasp as a Massachusetts Medical Board document filled the screen. It was redacted in places, but the stamp was clear: SUSPENDED.
"Eight years ago," Jamie said, his voice dropping the playful tone. "Derek Matthews' medical license was temporarily suspended in Massachusetts pending an investigation into professional misconduct."
The room erupted, shocked voices, angry exclamations. Mrs. Henderson let out a loud, scandalized "Hmph!"
"That investigation was inconclusive. No charges were filed. This is slander—" Derek said.
"I didn't say you were charged, Derek," Jamie shouted back, his voice sharp enough to cut through the din. "I said you were suspended. That is a matter of public record. But isn't it interesting? You attack Ellie's flawless record, yet you're the one with a history of board interventions."
"This proves nothing, my friend," Derek said. "You're trying to distract from the issue at hand."
"Maybe," Jamie said, his voice suddenly deadly calm. "But this isn't a distraction."
