“Which is answers,” Dr. Rice corrected. “If Cole’s care was appropriate, then he has nothing to worry about. He’ll sit in that meeting, answer questions, and they’ll see everything was done correctly.”
“You don’t believe that.” I stared at her. “You know exactly what’s going to happen—Rachel Gaines is going to paint Cole as a cowboy who prioritized his own judgment over family input. And you’re going to let them make Cole the villain because it’s easier than admitting that sometimes people die and it’s nobody’s fault.”
“That’s not what’s happening here.”
“That’s exactly what’s happening here,” I shot back. “You’re isolating him so that if this goes to litigation, the hospital can claim he acted independently.”
Dr. Rice’s expression didn’t change. “What I believe,” she said slowly, “is that this hospital will not take responsibility for an outcome that was essentially a Hail Mary. Cole knew it when he made the call.”
She moved closer, sounding more menacing by the second. “If the family needs someone to hold accountable, then Cole needs to be prepared to defend it.”
“He made the right call.”
“Then he’ll be fine,” Dr. Rice said, like it was that simple.
“Liz—”
“No.” Her tone was cold and hard as a rock. “You don’t get to ‘Liz’ me right now, Ms. Sutton. You undermined me, openly disagreed with the direction I set in front of outside counsel, in front of Dr. Webb, in front of the hospital’s legal team. Do you have any idea how that looks?”
“I was protecting RMC?—”
“You were protecting Dr. Vaughn,” she interrupted. “Which is not your job. Your job is to manage risk. Not to be Dr. Vaughn’s personal advocate.”
My jaw clenched. “My job includes protecting our staff from being railroaded.”
“Your job is whatever I say it is.” Dr. Rice moved back to the table, leaning forward. “And right now, I’m saying that we need to handle this situation carefully, strategically, and with the hospital’s best interests as the priority. Not Cole Vaughn’s feelings.”
“Cole’s career is part of this hospital’s interests. He’s an excellent surgeon with a spotless record. If you let them destroy that?—”
“No one is getting destroyed, Harper! But we will not wring our hands about one surgeon at the expense of the entire institution. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I understood perfectly. If someone had to burn, it wouldn’t be Ridgeway Medical Center. It would be Cole Vaughn.
“This is wrong.”
“This is reality. If you can’t accept that, then you’re not the right person for this role.”
The threat landed like a slap.
“Are you firing me?” I asked.
“Are you going to do your job? Can you put the hospital first? Can you manage this case objectively, without letting personal feelings about Dr. Vaughn cloud your judgment?”
Personal feelings.
The phrase lingered between us like smoke. My pulse quickened as I wondered if she was implying what I thought she was—if rumors had reached her.
I straightened my spine. “My assessment of Dr. Vaughn’s decision-making is based on medical protocols and the facts of the case, nothing more.”
“Then prove it,” Dr. Rice said. “I want you to prepare him. Make sure he understands what’s at stake. Make sure he knowshow to present himself—calm, professional, empathetic. Make sure he doesn’t walk into the room defensive or combative.”
She paused for effect, then added, “In other words, make sure he doesn’t fuck this up, because the hospital is not prepared to stand behind him if his stance veers off script. Am I clear?”
I could tell her to go to hell. I could quit on the spot.
But I thought about my salary, the benefits, the promotion I’d spent years crawling toward. I thought about my luxury apartment and my late model vehicle and how getting fired from a director-level position would look on a résumé.
I thought about everything I’d built, brick by brick. It would take nothing for someone in Dr. Rice’s position to knock it all down.
