Page 185 of Toxic Salvation
Something happened. Something bad enough to make him go cold and distant in the span of thirty seconds.
I asked him about it half a dozen times during the drive. Each time, he deflected with a kiss or a joke or by changing the subject entirely. By the time we pulled up to the hospital, I was too excited about returning to work to push the issue.
Stupid mistake.
I’ve spent my entire morning distracted, going through the motions of checking on patients while my mind wanders back to that moment over and over again.
I’m in the middle of reviewing charts when my pager goes off.
Richard Lovell - Office - STAT
The message makes my stomach drop. Richard doesn’t use STAT unless it’s serious. I excuse myself from rounds and go straight to his office, grateful that I decided to ease back into work slowly today. No surgeries scheduled until next week, just catching up and getting reacquainted with my patients.
Richard’s office has been completely transformed since the last time I was in here. Gone are Jeremy’s gaudy oil paintings and oversized mahogany desk. In their place, Richard has installed modern furniture, clean lines, and a dozen cheerful plants in expensive-looking ceramic pots. The space actually feels welcoming now.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I remark as I walk in.
Richard doesn’t smile. He doesn’t even acknowledge the compliment. Instead, he gestures to the chair across from his desk with a grim nod.
My pulse picks up. “What’s wrong?”
“Sit down, Vesper.” He blinks and adds, “Please.”
I sink into the chair, suddenly aware of how quiet his office is. The plants are the only things in the room with any life in them. “Richard, you’re scaring me.”
He pulls out a thick manila folder and places it on the desk between us. His hands shake as he opens it, revealing a stack of papers that must be at least fifty pages thick.
“There’s been an ethics complaint filed against you,” he says quietly. “About an hour ago. Submitted to the entire board simultaneously.”
“What?!Another one?!”
“I tried to dismiss it immediately, but I looked into the legal ramifications. If I throw out a complaint this detailed without proper review, I could face criminal charges myself if it goes public.”
I reach for the papers with trembling hands. The letterhead at the top is official—State Medical Board of California. But it’s the allegations listed on the first page that make me want to vomit.
Embezzlement of hospital funds.
Theft of organs for black market sale.
Medical malpractice resulting in patient death.
“This is insane.” I flip through page after page of documentation—bank records, surgical reports, patient files. All of it looks official. All of it points directly at me. “Richard, you know this is bullshit. You know I would never?—”
“Of course I know that.” He wipes sweat from his upper lip. “But look at page fifteen.”
I find the page and scan it quickly. It’s a surgical report from six months ago—a routine appendectomy on a twelve-year-old boy. According to this report, I harvested the boy’s kidney during the procedure and sold it for two hundred thousand dollars.
The problem is, I remember this surgery perfectly. It was routine. Textbook. The boy recovered completely and went home two days later.
But the documentation in front of me tells a different story.
Patient death during surgery due to surgical error. Unauthorized organ removal. Document fabrication suspected.
“This is all fake,” I whisper. “Every single page of this is made up.”
“I believe you completely. But proving it won’t be easy.” Richard slumps back in his chair. “The complaint was filed by someone with access to internal hospital records. Someone who knew exactly which cases to target, which forms to forge.”
My hands clench into fists. “Ihor.”
