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A Price on My Hands Novel Cover

A Price on My Hands

A Price on My Hands follows a dedicated surgeon who is unfairly reprimanded by her hospital after completing a grueling 36-hour shift. Despite her success, the administration cancels her bonus due to a viral complaint regarding IV bags she used for exhaustion. With a husband out of work and mounting family expenses, she confronts the Medical Affairs head. She soon realizes she was set up by the deputy director, leaving her to navigate a cutthroat workplace while her financial stability hangs in the balance.
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Chapter 3

The Ignorant Internet

The streaming room's lights were harsher than the operating theater's. Jebediah was right beside me, a gloating grin curling his lips. The chatroom was exploding.

'Get out of the medical world, scum!'

'You'd even steal something that cheap? You should have your license taken away!'

'The hospital did the right thing!'

My heart was turning stone cold. Jebediah elbowed me. With a low voice, he said, "Your turn to speak, Dr. Birch. And be genuine."

I raised my head and faced the camera, then I took a deep breath. I said hoarsely, "I acknowledge my fault in this matter. I've failed my patient and the hospital."

The chatroom exploded again.

'At least someone knows she's a failure!'

'You should've confessed sooner!'

'You shouldn't even be a doctor! You'd kill someone!'

I laughed at myself. Then I enunciated, "I, Jessica Birch, hereby announce my departure from Mercy Hospital. I resign as the surgical department's attending physician."

The chatroom fell silent.

Shortly after, a deluge of mocking comments showed up.

'Good! Get out of here!'

'Now the hospital is free of filth!'

Jebediah's smile kept growing wider. This was what he wanted.

The broadcast came to an end. I left the hospital without turning back. That night, I had a dream. In that dream, all I could see were fingers pointing at me while everyone yelled at me.

"You liar!"

"You butcher!"

I tried to defend myself and said that IV drip was used to save a life, but they all refused to hear me out. The yells turned into screams, and I… I jolted awake.

It was 5 a.m.

So, my episode woke my husband up. He turned on the table lamp and looked at me, worried. "Another nightmare?"

He had seen the broadcast, but he asked no questions and stayed with me in silent solidarity.

As he held my icy hands, he murmured softly, "You don't have to do this, honey. Everything will turn out fine as long as your conscience is clear. Your skills will be treasured somewhere else."

That did it.

My emotions broke through, and I bawled into his chest. I had spent my last decade for nothing. I spent hours upon hours and risked my life all to have my reputation ruined while the netizens cheered for my dismissal.

The director called me a week later.

I hesitated, but eventually accepted the call. "Jessica! No, Dr. Birch! I think you've had enough rest. You need to get back to work!"

I thought I was hallucinating.

The director continued, "The penalty's been removed! I'll get finance to give you your bonus! Double bonus!"

I sneered. "Why would you do that?"

The director paused. When he spoke again, he was in disbelief. "Why? Haven't you scrolled through the Internet for the past week?"

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