"Watch your tone," Nathaniel snapped. "Who said I don't care? Keep looking. If you can't find it, that's your problem. Nora's exhausted—I'm taking her home."

His gaze turned cold. "She's an intern, Rachel. Expecting her to take full responsibility is ridiculous. If anything goes wrong, it's because you failed to manage your team."

I stared at him, nails digging into my palms. The anger I'd bottled up for months threatened to spill over.

This wasn't new. His blatant favoritism toward Nora had been chipping away at me for a long time.

Last week, on my birthday, I'd finally secured a night off. Nathaniel vanished. I found out later he'd gone to help Nora wash her dog—left me waiting in the dark without so much as a text.

Two days ago, she'd simply walked off with a limited-edition bag I'd commissioned a personal shopper to find. When I confronted him, he'd just shrugged. "Nora suits it better." As if that settled it.

"My management?" I choked out a laugh. "Nathaniel, think. If that gauze is inside the patient, it's not just my problem. You're the Director. If this blows up, it'll bury you too."

His eyes narrowed.

"Is that how you speak to your superior?"

Dead silence. The other nurses lowered their heads, afraid to breathe.

Nathaniel pushed through the operating room door without another glance. "You all stay. Search until you find it. Report to me in the morning."

Nora, teetering on stilettos that had no place in a surgical suite, shot me a triumphant smirk. "I'll be heading out then. Good luck."

The door slammed shut.

The youngest nurse dissolved into tears. "What do we do? If we don't find it, Mrs. Harrington will destroy us."

"The Director is so biased," another whispered furiously. "Dr. Qiao wears full makeup and heels in the OR, and he says nothing. We have a single loose hair, and he writes us up."

"Enough." I forced my voice steady despite the dread coiling in my stomach. "We have a job to do. Search the entire suite again. Every inch."

We scoured the room until dawn. Bins, floor, instrument trays—everything.

Nothing.

The silence screamed the only remaining possibility: the gauze was inside the patient.

Exhaustion and horror hit me at once. The room spun. I grabbed the counter to steady myself as a nurse pressed hot water into my trembling hands.

"Drink," she urged.

I took a sip, trying to clear the fog. I had to tell the family. I had to—

Sharp heels clicked down the corridor.

Nora breezed in, humming, a fresh coffee in hand. "Morning."

She scanned my haggard face and feigned shock, covering her mouth. "Oh my god, did you stay up all night? You look terrible."

She shoved the cup at me. "Here. On the house."

My gaze locked on her coat—a white mink I'd bought with my year-end bonus but never had the heart to wear. She was wearing my clothes. Again.

Red clouded my vision. I slammed the coffee onto the table. Brown liquid sloshed over the rim.

"The gauze is in the patient, Nora. How do you intend to fix this?"

Her smile faltered. "How... how can you be sure? Maybe you just missed it."

She recovered quickly, her expression hardening. "If you're incompetent, don't blame me." She rolled her eyes and flopped onto the sofa without even removing her shoes.

"What is all this noise?"

Nathaniel strode in, brow furrowed. "Is this a hospital or a market?"

Nora shot up, voice dripping syrup. "Nathaniel! You're here early."

I opened my mouth to report the crisis—the missing gauze, the patient in danger—but he cut me off with a sharp clap.

"Listen up." His gaze swept over the exhausted nurses. "Nora performed exceptionally during yesterday's surgery. She has officially passed her internship."

He paused, a faint smile touching his lips.

"As of today, she is a full-time attending physician."

"Head Nurse Simmons, have Logistics set up a private office for her. Right next to mine."

I stared at Nathaniel. "Excuse me?"

Nora squealed and threw her arms around his neck, planting a loud kiss on his cheek. "Really? You're the best!"

The bright red lipstick smear on his face hit me like a slap.

My nails dug into my palms. "She left a surgical sponge inside a patient, and you're giving her a promotion?"

Nathaniel's gaze turned cold. "Are you certain?"

A junior nurse stepped forward, voice trembling. "Yes, Director. Head Nurse Simmons led the search for hours yesterday. It has to be inside the patient. We need to order a CT scan immediately and inform the family—"

Her voice withered under his darkening expression.

Panic flickered in Nora's eyes, but she masked it with a pout, clinging to his arm. "If we tell him, he'll file a complaint. He seems fine. Rachel, just pretend you don't know." She looked up at Nathaniel with wide eyes. "Right?"

His jaw tightened. "Nora is right. This funding round is critical. We cannot volunteer that information. Rachel, keep your mouth shut."

A chill swept through me. They intended to bury this.

Emboldened, Nora smirked and slammed her shoulder into mine as she passed. "Get moving on my office."

Exhausted from the sleepless night, I lost my balance and hit the floor.

Nathaniel didn't glance back. He simply walked away.

My heart turned to ice.

Fine. If they wanted to play with fire, I wouldn't burn with them.

I drafted my resignation and changed out of my scrubs.

The emergency line shrieked through the nurses' station.

"What kind of butchers are you running?" Mrs. Harrington's voice was shrill enough to hear outside the receiver. "My son is in agony! The scan shows a foreign object! Director Fleming, is this your standard of care?"

"I want the name of whoever did this. I will sue you for everything you have!"

Through the glass partition, I watched Nathaniel hunch over his desk, unable to meet the speakerphone's fury.

Ten minutes later, the break room door slammed open.

Nora let the tears flow. "Nathaniel, what do we do? I didn't mean to! You have to fix this!"

"How the hell should I know?" he roared.

She wailed louder.

I approached and slapped my resignation onto the table. "Sign it."

He stared at the document. "You're quitting?"

Nora's screech cut the air. "You're running away? Coward! You're the Head Nurse—this is your responsibility too!"

I laughed, dry and humorless. "My job was to assist, not slap the phone out of your hand while you scrolled social media during surgery. If you want to drag someone down, try to be less obvious."

She choked on her words.

Nathaniel slammed his fist against the wall. "Enough. Both of you."

His gaze turned icy. "Head Nurse Simmons, Nora is a novice. You should have supervised her better. The hospital's reputation is at stake. We don't have the luxury of pointing fingers."

If I went down, I was taking everyone with me.

I scoffed, my gaze hardening. "Fine. I'll resign. I'll take the blame and leave. Is that acceptable, Director Fleming?"

Nathaniel's expression darkened instantly. Before he could respond, his desk phone rang. He snatched it up, listening intently. I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but his eyes darted toward me, cold and calculating.

Without a word, he hung up and tore my resignation letter to shreds.

"You—"

"Rachel." His voice cut through mine, ice-cold. "Go tell the patient's mother that you left the gauze inside her son."

A chill ran down my spine. "What?"

He wasn't just asking me to resign. He was asking me to destroy my career to save Nora.

"This isn't just my decision." He extended the phone toward me. "Speak to your mother."

I took the device, my hand trembling. Mom's voice filtered through, sharp and demanding.

"Rachel, Nathaniel told me the situation. Nora cannot be implicated in this."

Her words were nails driving me into the floorboards.

"You're older. Stronger. You can handle a setback like this. Even if you lose your license, the family will support you. But Nora is different. We spoiled her—she's fragile. If she gets a mark like this on her record, she'll never recover."

My grip tightened until my knuckles went white.

"Be a good daughter." Her tone was final.

Fragile? Nora?

Before I could respond, the break room door burst open with a deafening crash.

"Where is the butcher who hurt my son?!" Mrs. Harrington stormed in, eyes wild with fury. "Director Fleming, give me a name!"

Nathaniel didn't hesitate. Didn't even blink.

He raised a finger and pointed directly at me.

"It was her."

Smack!

My head snapped to the side, cheek burning like a brand. Before I could draw breath, Mrs. Harrington lunged. She seized a fistful of my hair and yanked, throwing me to the floor.

"So it was you! You butchered my son!" she screamed. "I'll sue you for everything! You forced my boy onto the operating table a second time! You murderer!"

Her expensive heels slammed into my ribs. I curled into a ball, trying to shield my head, but the blows kept coming.

"Incompetent trash!"

Pain radiated through my body, but the cold seeping from the tiled floor into my heart was far worse. I looked up through the chaos, searching for my husband.

Nathaniel stood there, watching. He met my gaze for a fleeting second—eyes void of emotion—then turned his back on me. He placed a protective arm around Nora and escorted her out.

As they left, Nora glanced back. She didn't look scared.

She looked smug.

Ten minutes later, security finally pulled Mrs. Harrington off me. She spat in my direction, face twisted with hate.

"Just you wait. I'll see you in court. I'll make sure you never work in this city again!"

It was late when I finally dragged my battered body to the surveillance room.

Every OR was equipped with cameras. Usually, for routine surgeries, they weren't strictly monitored. But yesterday, knowing Nora was scrubbing in, I had explicitly ordered the staff to keep the recording running.

I needed insurance. Now, it was my only lifeline.

My ribs ached as I sat down. I pulled up the log for yesterday's surgery and clicked the file.

The media player opened.

My breath hitched.