Page 138 of Player Misconduct
Rain beats against the glass of the windows, turning the city beyond into a watercolor blur—gray buildings bleeding into a gray sky, the world reduced to muted shapes. The lighting in here feels harsh, but maybe that’s just because I’m about to lose my license for falling in love.
I sit at the long table, hands folded in my lap, trying to look calm even though my pulse is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. My lawyer, Richard Palmer, sits beside me, tabletopen, pen poised, his expression carefully neutral in that way lawyers have when they're trying not to show you how bad things are.
Across from us, three board members sit in a row: Dr. Helena Pierce in the center, flanked by Dr. Lowe and Dr. Oswald. Their expressions range from stern to skeptical to something that might be sympathy if you squint hard enough.
This is it.
The moment everything I've worked for—every late night, every exam, every patient I've saved—comes down to a single decision made by three people who don't know me, don't care about me, and are only here because my ex-husband decided to destroy my life one more time.
Dr. Pierce opens the file in front of her with a soft rustle of paper, her eyes scanning the first page with clinical detachment.
"Dr. Hensen," she begins, her voice measured and flat. "This review concerns allegations of ethical misconduct—specifically, that you engaged in an inappropriate relationship with a patient under your medical supervision, resulting in a conflict of interest that compromised your professional judgment."
I force myself to meet her gaze. "I understand."
"The incident in question," she continues, flipping to the next page, "occurred following a regular-season game at the Hawkeyes Arena. Video footage shows a physical altercation involving your ex-husband, Tarron McCoy, and Aleksi Mäkelin, a player currently under your care. The altercation resulted in injuries requiring medical attention."
My chest tightens. I can still see it—the tunnel, the cameras, Tarron's hand on my arm, Aleksi's face going hard and dangerous in a way I'd never seen before.
Get your hands off her.
Richard leans forward slightly, his voice calm and measured. "Dr. Hensen acted in good faith throughout this situation. Thealtercation was initiated by Mr. McCoy, who was intoxicated and became aggressive toward Dr. Hensen. Mr. Mäkelin intervened to protect Dr. Hensen. The media escalated the situation beyond anyone's control."
Dr. Oswald—the man with wire-rimmed glasses and a perpetual frown—speaks up. "The fact remains that Dr. Hensen's involvement with this player created a situation in which her professional objectivity was compromised. Regardless of who initiated the altercation, the outcome demonstrates a failure to maintain appropriate boundaries."
"The player who intervened was acting out of concern for Dr. Hensen's safety," Richard counters smoothly. "He was not under her direct care at the time of the incident—"
"Mr. Palmer," Dr. Pierce interrupts, her voice sharp. "We're not here to debate the specifics of the altercation. We're here to determine whether Dr. Hensen's conduct meets the ethical standards required of a licensed physician."
The walls press in. The air feels thin.
This is happening. This is really happening.
My hand drifts instinctively to my belly. Niko shifts beneath my palm, as if he knows what's going on.
Dr. Pierce glances at her colleagues, then back at me. "Before we proceed, I'd like to clarify something in your file."
My stomach drops. "Yes?"
She flips through several pages, her frown deepening. "You were previously reviewed by the Florida State Medical Board in connection with similar allegations. Is that correct?"
Heat floods my face. "Yes. But the complaint was dismissed. There was no relationship—it was just rumors."
Then after a moment I remember that Tarron told me they already had a file open on me. This would have happened even before the altercation.
"I’m sorry…” I ask, realizing that the proceedings in Florida had never gone anywhere due to the lack of facts in the claim against me. “I actually was never told who filed that complaint against me in Florida. I had just assumed it was from the press storm that the board had been tipped off. Did someone actually file a complaint?” I ask
“Yes…” Dr. Lowe says, sliding on her glasses and opens a file she has in front of her. I can see her scanning the document and then says, “The complaint was filed by Tarron McCoy.”
Shock hits me first, then fires rages in my stomach. Tarron knew the entire time that none of the men I had dated after our divorce were players under my care. He did that on purpose to rattle me, and let me believe it was the media that got me in trouble.
He was jealous and tried to end my career… after everything he had already put me through. I can barely believe it.
“Did you just say Tarron McCoy filed the complaint against me in Florida?”
I look over at my lawyer who is just now processing the entirety of what I am saying.
“Dr. Pierce, can I ask… did you have a file open for me before the incident in the hallway happened?”
