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Blobman held up a hand, then walked away. I stood there, nearly trembling with rage, as Lori slowly turned back to me.
Her face was clouded with confusion. “What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes coming up to meet mine. “What did you do?”
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. I forced myself to calm down, even if that was the last thing I wanted to feel. That bastard stalker didn’t know a thing about me or what I cared about. I valued human life, and sacrificed so much to become the best surgeon I could possibly be. I wanted to save people, and the last thing I wanted to do was rush a patient under the knife.
“Nil Tippett was eighty years old when he came to me,” I said, staring down at the ground. I could still see that first meeting, what felt like a hundred years ago. “His son came with him, a man named Robert. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Robert was driving Nil’s care from the start.”
“What happened?” Lori asked.
“Nil had bounced around the region, visiting specialists, before coming to me. He needed a coronary revascularization, which under the best of circumstances is a fairly high-risk procedure. Nobody would perform it on him, given his age and the fact that he was overweight and had smoked for fifty years. They came to me, and all but begged me to perform the surgery, told me that I was the only man in the area that could possibly pull it off.”
I closed my eyes and felt a sense of self-loathing wash over me. “They played my ego like a fiddle. I brought their case to the board, and although they were split, eventually I got the green light. The Tippetts are rich, which means they can buy whatever medical procedure they want, regardless of whether it’s a good idea or not.
“The surgery didn’t go well from the start. I did what I could, but Nil was old and half dead to begin with. He didn’t make it, one of the few patients I’ve lost, and that operation still bothers me. I keep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong, a different opening here, a slightly faster stitch there, different drugs, anything, but—”
I stopped myself, then pushed myself to finish the story.
“He died, and when we told the family, they were livid. Robert immediately threatened to sue, and started litigation a few days later. I was taken off most of my patients after that, and the private investigator began following me around a couple weeks ago.
“That’s the whole story. Nil was a mistake, a stupid mistake. I never should have let them convince me to do that procedure. I knew that his risk factors were too high, but it was obvious that he had no other chance if I didn’t go through with it. They flattered me, pushed for it to happen, said they understood it was unlikely to be successful, and yet are still going to try to sue me into the ground. It’s not right, and I don’t deserve it.”
Lori listened to the whole story with a small but deep frown. When I finished, she shifted from foot to foot then turned away, looking in the direction that the private investigator had gone.
I could only guess her thoughts. I was stupid and vain to try something so complex on an old, unhealthy man, and yet I thought I was the man’s only chance at survival. Just because he was old didn’t mean he needed to die. I could’ve given him more time, another decade even, if only I’d been better.
But I failed, and the man was dead.
“I understand why you’re angry,” she said, shaking her head. “Shit, what a horrible position.”
“Now you know everything.”
She nodded slightly. “I guess that’s why you got assigned a resident this year.”
“That, and your cousin.”
“Lucky me.” She looked back at me and shook her head. “You shouldn’t have come out here and confronted him. You know that, right? If the whole argument is that you’re too reckless, then this was a bad call.”
“I know that.” My hands balled into fists. “I went to Gina and asked if the hospital could do something about that guy stalking me. She more or less told me to figure it out myself. So I thought I would.”
“Bad call.”
“I’m aware.” I walked closer to her, studying her posture, the tension running through her spine. “I want to clear my name and keep practicing medicine. I don’t want these blackmailing bastards to win.”
She gave me a look, almost pleading. “I just want to get through my residency.”
“I’ll train you. And you can help me in return.”
“I won’t lie for you.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to. I want you to tell them to the truth, but without bias. Right now, I think you dislike me because you think I’m arrogant, or for a thousand other reasons. But I want you to think about my skills as a surgeon, not my winning personality.”
