Ava was in the next room. Wearing my t-shirt, probably, with Watson curled up on her chest. Taking up space I wished was mine.
I thought about the way she'd looked at me in the kitchen. Like she wanted the same thing I did. Like she was just as scared of it.
I turned over. Punched the pillow into a better shape. Closed my eyes.
The line I'd been holding for four years was starting to fray.
Not much longer.
Carmen's voice echoed, distant now, growing fainter every day.I want someone who's going somewhere.
I was going somewhere. I'dbeengoing somewhere all along.
And maybe Ava wanted to go there with me.
I fell asleep with that thought. With the memory of her breath catching. With the feel of her skin under my fingertips.
With hope that I hadn't let myself feel in years.
CHAPTER 8
Ava
Dr. Park'soffice door was closed when I arrived for my shift.
That was never a good sign. Park kept an open-door policy. In four years of knowing him, through residency, fellowship, and my first year as an attending, I'd seen that door closed exactly twice. Once, he fired a resident for falsifying patient records. Once, when he told me a colleague had passed.
The third time, apparently, was for me.
"Rothwell." He stood when I knocked, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Close the door."
I did. Sat. Kept my face neutral, the way I did when delivering bad news to families. The way I did when everything inside me was screaming.
"The medical board called this morning." Park didn't sit back down. He stood with his hands in his coat pockets, watching me with that steady gaze that had seen me through my worst shifts. "The complaint has been escalated to a formal investigation."
The words hit. I felt my whole body absorb the impact.
"Investigation." My voice came out flat.
"Patient confidentiality violation. The accusation is that you disclosed protected health information when you reported KevinLang's confession to the police." Park's jaw tightened. "It's retaliation. We both know that. But the board has to investigate. It's procedure."
Procedure.
This license was everything I'd built. Fourteen years. College at eighteen on scholarships because I refused my father's money. Medical school on loans that would take decades to pay off. Residency hours that broke people stronger than me. I'd built my identity piece by piece, without the Rothwell name, without the connections, without the safety net of wealth.
If I lost this, I lost everything.
"The good news," Park continued, and I could hear how carefully he was choosing his words, "is that you followed proper protocol. Patient confidentiality has exceptions for reports of criminal activity. Especially when there's potential for ongoing harm. I've already submitted a statement to the board supporting your actions."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet." He finally sat, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "This investigation could take months. And until it's resolved, the Langs can use it as a weapon. Administration is already getting pressure from the councilman's office. Subtle, but there."
Of course they were. Richard Lang had donated two million dollars to the new cardiac wing. His name would be on a plaque in the lobby. People like him didn't donate out of generosity. They donated to buy influence. To ensure that when they needed something, the institution would bend.
"What do you need from me?" I asked.
"Keep doing your job. Document everything." He caught my eye, held it. "And Ava. You did the right thing. A seventeen-year-old boy is dead because Kevin Lang got behind the wheel drunk.His family deserves answers. Don't let them make you doubt that."
