Chapter 1

A preschool event. A stage that gave way without warning.

A shard of glass through the heart of my three-year-old son, and the only man who could save him was my own husband, the surgeon they called a miracle worker.

But my husband cited the need to avoid the appearance of favoring a direct relative, and turned instead to wheel the son of the woman he never got over into the operating room first.

"Dennis Coleman is my son. As his attending physician, I have to stay clear of any conflict of interest."

"If I operate on him first, that isn't fair to the other patients."

An hour later, my son couldn't be revived, and they rolled him into the cold morgue.

And Cornelius Henson stood at the door of the operating room, handing out red envelopes, celebrating the successful surgery of that woman's son.

I laughed at myself.

Fine.

If it's a conflict of interest we're worried about, then let me tell you: I'm about to take the post of hospital chairwoman.

And you, as my family, will no longer belong in this hospital.

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The corridor was all celebration, everyone congratulating Yvonne Fox on her son's successful surgery.

The nurses nearby were murmuring to each other too.

"I heard Nurse Fox's boy only had a cut on his leg, and Dr. Henson still pushed his own son's surgery aside for it, even used his position to requisition an operating room on an emergency basis. That kind of devotion, honestly, it's touching."

"You said it. Dr. Henson even pulled strings and got the director himself to do the stitching so the child wouldn't scar."

Listening to all of them, I gripped the death certificate in my hand until it crushed.

Cornelius's expression turned awkward and guilty on the spot.

"Yvonne has helped me a great deal in my work over the years. Without her, I never could have risen this fast."

My eyes went red.

"So this business about family needing to avoid a conflict of interest, that's only for me and Dennis, is that it?"

Cornelius's face darkened at once.

"What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Dennis is my son. If I'd operated on him first, that would be unfair to the other patients."

"Besides, Yvonne only got nicked by some glass. A little disinfectant and she's fine. Why would you want to tie up medical resources over that?"

Yvonne Fox stepped forward too, her whole face a picture of grievance.

"Yvette Winfield, I know you have a problem with me. But your son was always snatching my boy's toys at preschool, even ganged up with the other children to bully him, and now you want to trade on being Dr. Henson's family to steal my son's chance at his life?"

The moment the patients' families crowded around heard Yvonne's words, they started pointing at me.

"Like mother, like child, truly. Bullying his classmates at that age, what's he going to be when he grows up?"

"It's people like you who ruin the medical environment these days. Your son deserved that glass. Shame it didn't just finish him off!"

"Thank goodness Dr. Henson has the heart of a true physician, that he knows to keep his distance. Otherwise certain people would've cut the line, and how unfair would that be to the rest of us waiting our turn for surgery."

I clenched my teeth and looked at Cornelius.

"Dennis needs the distance, but Yvonne's son doesn't? Why were you free to operate on hers first?"

A flicker of guilt crossed Cornelius's eyes, gone almost before it showed.

"Yvonne is a nurse at our hospital. Everyone has seen everything she's given this place over the years. Saving her son first was so the medical staff wouldn't lose heart."

"And Yvonne's a single mother raising a child on her own. Do you know how hard that is? Can't you show a little compassion?"

I held the death certificate tight in my palm, my heart tearing like it had been run through with a knife.

"Do you have any idea, because of this so-called distance of yours, our child..."

I was about to hold the death certificate up in front of Cornelius when he flung a pack of cotton swabs and iodine at my feet, out of patience.

"This is a hospital. I don't have time to watch you stage some soap-opera scene. Take the supplies home and disinfect the child yourself. Stop tying up medical resources for no reason."

"Take your things and go, and quit making a spectacle of yourself out here!"

I looked at the pack of iodine swabs he'd tossed me like charity, and it struck me as beyond absurd.

So this was it. For a doctor's family, seeking ordinary care was tying up medical resources.

Looking at that hypocritical face of Cornelius's, I took out my phone and placed a call.

"I accept the position of hospital chairwoman."

If distance is what he wants.

Then Cornelius, as my family, no longer belongs in this hospital.