A Price on My Hands

Innocence

I'd turned off all social media's push notifications and uninstalled all my social media apps. I knew it would tear my already fragile heart if I saw one venomous about me. Still, the director sounded serious.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The patient's family has posted an open apology to you! It's been the headline for days! Tristan himself spoke in your defense! You know, that patient you saved!"

The director's voice was filled with excitement. He sounded as if I'd gotten the best deal in the world.

Unfortunately for him, I felt nothing.

If anything, I was amused by his fervor. "Sure," I said coolly.

The director fell silent.

He had expected me to be furious, excited, or even elated. However, he never thought I'd be indifferent or even respond with an agreement that sounded perfunctory at best.

"What is with that attitude? The misunderstanding has been solved, and your penalty's been lifted. So you…"

"Mr. West," I interrupted. "I've resigned. I've even made that clear to the Internet during the broadcast. I apologize, but I'm not returning to the hospital."

"No!" Benjamin West roared. "You must continue working with us! Name your terms! We can talk it out! Just come back!"

He was panicking.

The sneer on my lips sharpened.

A week ago, they made me apologize to the whole Internet and tried to step all over me. And now they were begging me to go back to them? Talk about ironic.

"Why do you want me back?" I inquired quietly.

Benjamin immediately stopped short. I didn't push him for an answer. Instead, I patiently waited for an answer.

A long while later, he finally spoke. I could hear the plea in his voice as he stammered, "W-Well, after you left, orthopedics got a high-level amputation case. Nathan was on the case, but the patient ran an infection post-surgery and died."

He continued, "Then, neurosurgery got a brain aneurysm case. They'd started craniotomy and realized they got the wrong spot, so they stitched the patient back up. No one wanted to take the risk. And then there's general surgery…"

My heart sank further with every case Benjamin brought up.

They were my colleagues, so I was well aware of their limited skills. If I had been there, perhaps…

I quickly shut that thought down. "Enough," I interjected. "So, you're trying to say the hospital's reputation took a hit."

"Yes," replied Benjamin, utterly defeated. "Our success rate has dropped by 30%. The public's saying we're only second-rate without you."

His answer was so hilarious to me that I nearly cried.

These people kicked me out when my portfolio was tainted. Now that they realized they couldn't survive without me, they were trying to win me back with a pathetic show of flattery and a bonus that I was supposed to get anyway?

Yeah, that was not happening.

"I'm tired, Mr. West. I can't save everyone, especially not your hospital's reputation. I'm afraid I won't be returning." Then, I hung up before he could say anything.

As I leaned on the back of my couch, I mused for a moment and grabbed my phone. For the first time in a week, I reinstalled my social media apps and clicked one of them open. The ad was still playing, but I could already see the most popular hashtag—#TristanandfamilyapologizetoDrBirch

It was top of the list, so I clicked on the link.