The Price of Blood and the Cost of Standing Alone Against Family
“They saw you attack Patricia.”
“They saw an edited file,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied.
“The committee wants a clean, quiet resolution.”
“If you resign tonight, we can keep the state licensing board out of this.”
I gripped the phone tighter, my fingers turning white.
“I’m not resigning,” I said.
“Then you’ll destroy what’s left of your career,” Michael said.
“And for what?”
“For a grudge?”
“It’s not a grudge,” I said.
“It’s the truth.”
I ended the call before he could answer.
I set the phone on the counter and stared at my reflection in the dark kitchen window.
The yellow bruise on my neck was fading, but it still throbbed when I turned my head too quickly.
I didn’t sleep much that night.
At six in the morning, the sky was a flat, cold gray.
A light drizzle was falling, streaking the windshield of my car as I drove to County General.
The air smelled of wet asphalt and car exhaust as I walked toward the entrance.
I parked in my usual spot, though my badge had been temporarily deactivated for the clinical floors.