Chapter 5

At three in the afternoon, I was summoned to Dean Henderson's office.

When I opened the door, Samantha was sitting on the leather sofa, sipping tea, while Thomas stood by the window, smoking a cigar.

Dean Henderson sat behind his mahogany desk, his forehead creased into deep lines.

"Lynn, come in, take a seat," the Dean said, pointing to the chair opposite him.

"Speak freely, Dean. I'll stand," I replied.

The Dean cleared his throat. "Well, Mrs. Vance just brought a serious issue to my attention. She claims you have a personal bias in the drug allocation process, and that you are intentionally blocking her son's lifesaving medication. This is reflecting very poorly on our institution."

"I am following the regulations. What bias?"

Samantha slammed her teacup onto the glass table.

"Regulations? Every specialist in this state says my son is the perfect fit, and you’re the only one saying no! If that’s not bias, what is? Did you take a bribe from someone else to sell our drug under the table?"

Dean Henderson waved his hands frantically. "Mrs. Vance, please, let’s not throw accusations. Lynn isn’t that kind of person. But Lynn, Tyler’s condition is indeed critical. You must give us a reasonable explanation."

"My explanation is in the file. Non-compliant paperwork."

Samantha bolted upright and marched right up to my face.

"Do you think your position here is secure?"

She leaned in, whispering so only the three of us could hear: "Let me tell you something. Crushing you is easier than stepping on an ant. Bow your head, apologize, sign the paper, and I’ll pretend today never happened. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise what?" I met her icy glare.

Samantha suddenly laughed, a vicious, triumphant sound.

"Otherwise, by tomorrow, everyone in this state will know that the Director of the Compassionate Use Program at this hospital is a corrupt, heartless murderer. I wonder if the families of the patients who didn't get the drug will come and tear you apart?"

Dean Henderson panicked. "Mrs. Vance, please, let’s not be rash..."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Samantha turned to the Dean. "Dean Henderson, I’m putting it on the line today. If my son doesn't get that drug, the fifty-million-dollar endowment Vance Enterprises promised for your new medical wing is officially canceled!"

Dean Henderson’s face drained of all color.

"Lynn!" The Dean slammed his hand on the desk. "What the hell are you holding out for? Sign the damn paper!"

I looked at the panicked Dean, and then at the smug, victorious Samantha.

"No."

Samantha let out a cold laugh, pulled out her phone, and put it on speaker.

"Hey, is this the lead editor at *The Daily Chronicle*? I have a massive story for you. The Director of the Compassionate Use Program at the state hospital is abusing her power and letting a young boy die out of spite. Yes, I have all the proof ready. I'll send it over now."

She hung up and looked at me with pure malice.

"Get ready to be ruined, Mitchell."

Thomas walked over, patting Samantha on the shoulder, looking at me with cold pity. "Director Mitchell, you should have left yourself a way out. Since you insisted on putting yourself in a corner, don't blame us."

The two of them walked out, heads held high.

Dean Henderson collapsed back into his chair, his hand trembling as he pointed at me.

"Lynn! You’re usually so smart! Why the hell are you acting like an idiot now? Do you know how important that fifty million is to this hospital? How am I supposed to defend you when the news breaks tomorrow?"

I turned toward the door.

"You don't have to defend me, Dean."

"What do you mean?"

I looked back over my shoulder and smiled.

"Because I'm the one who lit the match."