She glanced at the clock, then at the hall behind me. “Walk with me.”
We moved toward the supply room, the door swinging shut behind us, muffling the noise of the unit. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with gauze, saline, gloves in every size.
I did not waste time.
“I’m concerned about the surgical rotation assignment,” I said.
Parker’s expression shifted, attentive but guarded. “In what way?”
“It was given to James’s girlfriend,” I said. “Rosemary was passed over without explanation that holds up.”
Parker’s lips pressed together. “The decision was based on qualifications. Also, Doctor Perot hasn’t declared a personal relationship with Miss Green.”
“I’ve worked with Rosemary for two years,” I said. “She has been preparing for this since the day we first walked into Mission Valley. For it to go to a nurse who only just transferred here… The timing raises questions.”
Parker studied me, her gaze steady. “Are you accusing James of favoritism?”
“Yes,” I said.
Silence stretched between us, thick but contained. A cart rattled past outside, wheels squeaking against the floor.
Parker adjusted her glasses. “This is a serious claim.”
“It should be,” I replied.
She nodded once. “I’ll look into it.”
“When?” I asked.
Her brows lifted. “Today. I’ll schedule an urgent meeting with James. HR too.”
I held her gaze. “Thank you.”
“You know this is going to rock several boats. It won’t be easy.”
“I’m not here for easy,” I said.
When I stepped back into the hallway, my hands were shaking just enough that I had to curl them into fists to steady them. But I felt good.
Rosemary was waiting near the desk, pretending to review lab results. She glanced up as I approached.
“It’s done,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “You talked to her.”
“I did.”
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” I said.
She gave a small, tired smile. “Thank you.”
We went back to work. Med passes. Call lights. A patient who wanted ice chips every ten minutes. A family member with questions that had no clean answers.
Between rooms, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Landon checking in. My heart broke for him. Having to watch the series slip from the bench, from the press box, from anywhere but the ice.
James had done this. Not alone, but deliberately enough.
