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Chapter 4 Good News Follows Bad News

Sarah's POV

I bounced outta the Hilton, already set on ditching New York. Lost my intern gig at HHC, so now I gotta find another hospital to finish up my internship year. But job hunting? That could take forever.

And to be honest, the peanuts they pay intern docs weren't gonna cover another year's rent in New York.

Maybe heading back to Los Angeles wasn't such a bad idea; at least I got a place there, sorta.

I punched in the number. "Prof. Wilson, you got a sec? I need a favor!"

"Hey, Sarah! How's New York treating ya?"

George Wilson was my teacher in college, he sounded all chipper. He always said I was one of his top students ever. We've kept in touch since I graduated.

"Sorry, Prof. Wilson, hope I'm not crashing your meeting!" I joked.

Three years back, George ditched his teaching gig at New York Medical College and moved to Los Angeles Premier Cardiac Care Hospital to be the big boss of the medical management committee.

He used to gripe to me about how he never realized his real talent was sitting through endless meetings, not doing surgeries.

"Meetings are the worst, man," he replied.

"George, I, I gotta leave HHC. Can't stick around there anymore." My voice got all soft.

There was a pause, then George said, "You must have a good reason. Come to Los Angeles, I'd love to have you on board. I'll set up an interview with the head of the surgical department and put in a good word for you!"

My eyes got all misty. He was still the same, always had my back like a dad!

"Thanks, George, you're a lifesaver!"

"Lifesavers don't have wrinkles all over their faces!" George joked.

Used to the skyscrapers of Menhatton, the flat sprawl of Los Angeles threw me off as soon as I got there. I hopped on the subway and headed home.

Home was this three-story white house with a big ol' garden out front.

But I only knew the first floor. As a kid, I crashed in the tiny room next to the kitchen. Upstairs were my parents' and Emily's rooms, and a walk-in closet. I was never allowed up there unless it was an emergency.

I pushed open the door to the small room, and a cloud of dust hit me. No sign of my life here; it was packed with boxes. It had turned into a storage room.

I gave a sad smile; made sense. I'd been boarding at school since eighth grade. Almost 10 years now.

But Emily's room upstairs? Bet it was spotless, 'cause Julia cleaned it every week. Emily could come home and crash anytime.

After all, this was her home, not mine.

Before coming back, I called my mom. She was pissed about my sudden return to Los Angeles and made it clear she wasn't thrilled to have me around. I promised I'd move out within a month. She finally let me stay.

Julia and Emily were at her fiancé's mansion, getting ready for the wedding.

Apparently, his place was as fancy as the top abbey in Biltmore Estate.

I sneered, thinking, 'What does it matter to me?'

For now, I was stuck in this dusty house. No bed of my own, and tonight I'd be crashing on the couch in the living room.

Even though the couch cushions were rock hard, I passed out quick, wiped from all the cleaning.

I dreamt of my dad, or rather, my adoptive dad, Martin Davis.

In the dream, he was already balding but looked young, like in his thirties.

He came up to me with a warm smile, patted my shoulder, and fixed my hair, like a real dad. I leaned in for a hug.

Then, his smile turned creepy and gross. A big hand slid under my shirt and grabbed my breast. I struggled, but he held me tight, like a vice.

I woke up screaming, sweat pouring down my face.

That nightmare from a decade ago still haunted me. I was breathing heavy, drenched in cold sweat, goosebumps all over.

I could almost see him again, sitting on the living room couch, jerking off in the dark.

He'd say, "Come on, little Sarah, wanna play a game with Daddy?" Then he'd lift my skirt and stick his head under it.

Disgusting. I couldn't help but gag.

In my crappy childhood, on countless nights, I'd curl up in my tiny bed, shaking, scared that this monster would unlock my door.

Countless times I fought back, but his hands still found me.

I tried to get help.

I cried to Julia about her husband's sick behavior, but instead of protection, I got her angry accusations. Like I was the one wrecking her family.

"Bitch! Look at you, always flaunting your big boobs, getting boys' attention at school. Now you're seducing your father at home! God, are you a demon sent to punish me and destroy my family's happiness?" she always accused.

I was floored by her words.

I knew Julia didn't like me, but I didn't expect her to hate me. Staying in that house, I'd either go nuts or die.

So I chose to leave that hellhole.

How old was I then? Thirteen? Fourteen? Maybe.

I reached out to a close teacher at school and transferred to a boarding school. Luckily, thanks to my killer grades, the school waived my tuition and boarding fees.

Since then, I've been on my own, taking care of myself, until now.

The next morning, I checked my email on my phone.

An official notice from NYCHHC: Sarah Davis, we formally notify you that after evaluation by the head of surgery, your direct supervisor, Dr. David Miller, your professional abilities have not met the standards required for a full-time employee at this hospital. Therefore, your internship period is officially over.

Dr. David? That creep? He had the nerve to evaluate me?

Scum!

But I felt a wave of loss and collapsed back onto the couch.

I only had one month left in my internship year at NYCHHC. If it weren't for David, I could've toughed it out and become a full-time employee. But now I had to rely on George and start my internship year all over again in Los Angeles.

But I wasn't gonna let David get away with this.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

[Sarah, congrats! Got the hospital's notice? You must be thrilled, right?! How do you feel? Regret it? Bitch, if you're willing to kneel and give me a good blowjob, I can forget your rude behavior that night. You can get back to HHC with just my signature!]

Bastard!

I was especially glad at that moment that I had finally escaped his clutches.

If I saw David again, even for a second, I couldn't help but grab a scalpel and make some cuts on his unnecessary parts.

I had to do something now. Otherwise, even if I escaped, he'd go after other female doctors and nurses around him.

So I quickly took a screenshot and opened my email. I typed in the email address of the NYCHHC ethics committee and quickly wrote a line:[Please conduct a thorough investigation on this individual! I fear that his behavior may escalate in my absence and pose a threat to other female colleagues at the hospital.]

Send!

Even if I couldn't get him fired, I could at least make his life hell for a while.

At least he wouldn't be hitting on other female colleagues at the hospital.

After breakfast, I got a call from Prof. Wilson.

"Sarah, come to Los Angeles Premier Cardiac Care Hospital tomorrow morning. The head of surgery, Mr. Brandt, will personally interview you. Be well prepared."

I was so excited I almost jumped up.

At least it wasn't all bad news, right?

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