Then, I see him.
Caldwell.
Coming straight for me.
I barely register what’s happening before he’s storming across the corridor, face flushed red with anger.Murderous.Livid, beyond anything I’ve ever seen.
“McGloughlin,” he thunders. “My office.Now.”
A few staff glance our way. Sensing a scene in the making, I nod once and follow him down the hallway.
Pressure builds though I keep my stride steady.
I knew this was coming. I didn’t know when. Or how.
Here we fucking go.
Caldwell shoves the office door open so hard it bangs against the wall. He doesn’t bother closing it behind us—he wants people to hear this.
Wants them to know I’m being dragged in like a schoolboy caught with his hand in the fucking cookie jar.
I hold my ground as he rounds the desk, fists clenched at his sides.
“You ungrateful little asshole,” he spits. “AftereverythingI’ve done for you.”
I don’t say a word. Cross my arms and wait.
“I was in mediation all day yesterday.” He narrows his eyes. “Do you know what I learned?”
Yes. Yes, I do.
My lips stay sealed.
“You’re working withher.” He sneers the word like it’s poison in his mouth. “The fat, desperate ambulance chaser?”
Something inside me snaps at the crass way he speaks of Marcella. I try like hell not to let it show.
Caldwell keeps going, pacing behind his desk. “You—of all people—siding with her. Letting her spin her bullshit case while I’m fighting for my reputation. For the program. For thishospital.” His eyes flash with something cold. “You’ve sold your fucking soul.”
“No, I signed a settlement and release to avoid culpability. I’m out of the case.” I lean against the wall by the door.
Caldwell’s laugh is jagged, feral. “You arrogant littlefuck. That fat bitch has been sharpening her knives for months and you’ve dropped your pants and let her castrate us both. You pissed on your own future for a woman who’d slit your throat in a heartbeat.”
“I’m doing what’s best for Miranda.” I calmly look at my phone. “Are we done? I need to get back to the lab.”
He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Why bother. You still think you’ll be a neurosurgeon? Have a future in this field? You may have avoided a lawsuit where insurance would have saved us both. Instead, you fucked yourself out of a career, McGloughlin.”
A wave of nausea flickers in my gut—he’s confirmed my biggest fear. I know how the system works. I know how whispers can ruin careers before they even begin.
I also know the truth.
I saw it with my own eyes.
“Do you know what’s funny?” I manage to stay calm. “I thought you had my back and would have had yours until the end. I trusted you implicitly and thought you gave a damn about not only my career, but me as a person.”
“I did—do,” Caldwell snarls.
“No.” I tilt my head. “You only care about yourself. About saving face. About throwing people under the bus when it suits you.” I step forward, close enough he has to tilt his chin to meet my gaze. “You disappoint me on such a deep level it’s astounding. Miranda Black’s life is over because you didn’t listen to me and then you tried to throw me under the bus leaving me no choice but to try and save myself. You’re the one who’s going to tank your legacy if you don’t pull your head out of your sanctimonious, egotistical ass.”
