Beyond D Protocol

The steady rhythm of the cardiac monitor was the only sound Ivy Manchester allowed herself to focus on. Not the sweat gathering beneath her surgical cap. Not the ache creeping through her shoulders. And definitely not the fact that she had been standing for nearly seven hours. "Clamp." The instrument was placed into her waiting hand immediately. Ivy's eyes remained fixed on the surgical field before her. "Blood pressure?" "One hundred and ten over seventy." "Heart rate?" "Eighty-two." "Good." Her voice was calm. Almost unnervingly calm. Around her, the operating room remained tense. A pancreaticoduodenectomy was never a simple procedure. The patient's tumour had spread dangerously close to the portal vein and superior mesenteric vessels, turning an already complicated surgery into something even more delicate. One wrong movement. One damaged vessel. One mistake. That was all it would take. "Retractor." Another instrument was placed into her hand. Ivy leaned forward slightly. "Careful around the portal vein," she said quietly. One of the surgeons beside her glanced at her. "You don't need to remind me, Doctor Manchester." "I know." Her eyes didn't leave the surgical field. "That's why I reminded you." Under different circumstances, someone might have laughed. Nobody did. Not while Ivy Manchester was operating. At nineteen years old, Ivy was already one of the youngest doctors the hospital had ever employed. Her age had once made people question her abilities. It didn't anymore. Her hands had answered those questions for her. "Okay," Ivy finally said after several more minutes of intense silence. "Let's begin reconstruction." The atmosphere in the room shifted. Everyone moved with precision. Every instruction Ivy gave was followed immediately. Minutes turned into another hour. Then another. Until finally— "Close." The word left Ivy's mouth quietly. For a moment, nobody moved. Then the tension inside the operating room disappeared all at once. The procedure was over. Ivy stepped back. Her shoulders relaxed for what felt like the first time in hours. "Good work, everyone." A few exhausted smiles appeared around the room. One of the senior surgeons removed his gloves and looked at her. "Seven hours and eighteen minutes." Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Was that supposed to impress me?" The man shook his head with a tired smile. "You are impossible." "I've been told." After washing her hands, Ivy finally removed her surgical cap. Her brown hair, which had been tightly secured for hours, fell loosely around her shoulders. She released a long breath. "Doctor Manchester." Ivy turned. A nurse stood beside her. "The patient's family has been waiting outside." Of course they had. Ivy glanced toward the clock. She was exhausted. Completely exhausted. But she still nodded. "Okay." The moment Ivy stepped into the hallway, someone immediately stood. Then another. The patient's family had been waiting for hours. A woman rushed toward her. "Doctor!" Ivy barely had time to react before the woman grabbed both her hands. "Is he okay?" Ivy smiled. "The surgery went well." The woman's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Oh, thank God." "He'll need to be monitored closely for the next few days," Ivy continued. "The procedure was complicated, and recovery won't be immediate. But the surgery itself was successful." The woman covered her mouth. "Thank you." "You don't have to—" "No." The woman shook her head. "You don't understand. Three hospitals told us they couldn't do it." Ivy's expression softened. "Well, they were wrong." The woman laughed through her tears. Then, before Ivy could stop her, she pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, Doctor Manchester." Ivy awkwardly patted her back. "You're welcome." "Doctor Ivy!" Ivy looked down. A little boy was running toward her. Before she could move, he wrapped his tiny arms around her waist. The woman immediately looked embarrassed. "Oh my goodness, I'm sorry—" "It's okay." Ivy looked down at the child. He lifted his head. "Mommy said you saved Grandpa." Ivy crouched slightly. "Your grandfather is very strong." "But you helped him." A small smile appeared on Ivy's face. "Maybe I did." The boy grinned before hugging her again. This time, Ivy laughed softly. A few nurses nearby watched the scene with amused expressions. "She's pretending she doesn't like children again," one whispered. "I heard that." The nurse laughed. Ivy stood and continued down the hallway. She had barely taken ten steps when an elderly woman sitting outside another patient's room lifted her head. "Doctor Manchester!" Ivy stopped. Mrs. Thompson smiled brightly. "Come here." Ivy sighed dramatically before walking over. "Mrs. Thompson, aren't you supposed to be resting?" "And aren't you supposed to be eating after standing in surgery for seven hours?" Ivy blinked. "How did you know?" The old woman smiled smugly. "Everyone knows when Doctor Manchester has been in surgery for too long. You start looking like you're about to declare war on the entire hospital." "I do not." "You do." "I'm your doctor, not your entertainment." "And I'm your patient, so listen to me. Go and eat." Ivy pointed at her. "You take your medication first." Mrs. Thompson laughed. Ivy shook her head and continued walking. She loved moments like these. The hospital wasn't just a workplace to her. It was where she belonged. Or at least, that's what she thought. "Doctor Manchester." Ivy stopped. Alice stood at the end of the hallway, holding a tablet against her chest. Alice was twenty-six years old—seven years older than Ivy—and had been assigned as her personal assistant almost a year ago. Their relationship had never been particularly warm. Ivy didn't dislike Alice. But Alice made very little effort to hide the fact that she disliked Ivy. Perhaps it was Ivy's age. Perhaps it was the fact that nineteen-year-old Ivy had somehow become a doctor while Alice was still working as an assistant. Whatever the reason, Alice's politeness had always felt carefully rehearsed. "What is it?" Ivy asked. "The chairman wants to see you." Ivy frowned. "Now?" "Immediately." Something about Alice's expression felt strange. Too composed. Almost as if she already knew something Ivy didn't. "Do you know why?" "No." The answer came too quickly. Ivy studied her for a moment. Then shook her head. "Fine." _____________________ The chairman's office was unusually quiet. Too quiet. Ivy immediately noticed the envelope sitting on his desk. Her steps slowed. "What is that?" The man sitting behind the desk looked up at her. "Ivy." She hated when he called her that. Not Doctor Manchester. Not Doctor Ivy. Just Ivy. Like they were close. They weren't. "Sir." "Sit down." "I'd rather stand." His jaw tightened slightly. "Ivy." "Sir." For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Then he pushed the envelope toward her. Ivy stared at it. Her stomach sank. "No." "Ivy—" "No." She stepped forward and picked it up. Her eyes moved across the paper. For a moment, she didn't breathe. Termination of Employment. Ivy slowly looked up. "You're firing me?" "Yes." A laugh almost escaped her. She had just spent over seven hours saving someone's life. She had patients requesting her by name. Families trusted her. Senior doctors respected her. And now— "You're firing me?" "I don't want to make this difficult." "Then don't." His eyes darkened slightly. Ivy folded the letter in her hand. "You cannot fire me without a reason." "I can." "On what grounds?" He stood from his chair. Ivy didn't move. "You've always been a difficult employee." Her eyebrows rose. "Difficult?" "You're arrogant." "I'm confident." "You don't respect authority." "I don't respect stupidity." His jaw clenched. Ivy smiled slightly. There it was. The real reason. "You know," she continued, "for a man who claims I don't respect authority, you seem very comfortable abusing yours." His expression changed. Alice, standing near the door, remained completely silent. The chairman slowly walked around his desk. Ivy's smile disappeared. "Just one night." Her eyes narrowed. He stopped in front of her. "One night, darling." Ivy stared at him. "You've got to be joking." "You can keep your job." Her grip tightened around the termination letter. He lowered his voice. "No one has to know." For a second, the room was completely silent. Then Ivy laughed. A cold, humourless laugh. "You're disgusting." His face hardened. "Ivy." "No." She stepped closer. "You don't get to stand there and act like you're doing me a favour." "Think carefully." "I have." His expression darkened. "Don't waste my time." Something inside Ivy snapped. "You can go f**k yourself for all I care!" The chairman stared at her. Ivy continued. "I may be nineteen, but at least I have enough sense not to sleep with someone old enough to be my father." "Ivy!" "What?" His face turned red. She lifted the termination letter. "You're firing me anyway." For the first time, her confidence wavered. Only slightly. Because despite everything— She loved her job. She loved medicine. She loved the patients. And losing it hurt more than she wanted to admit. But she would never let him see that. Ivy turned toward the door. Alice stepped aside. "Ivy—" Ivy stopped. For a brief moment, she looked at her assistant. Alice's expression was carefully neutral. Too carefully neutral. Ivy narrowed her eyes. She knew Alice. Or at least, she thought she did. Then Ivy walked out. She returned to the office she shared with Alice. The room suddenly felt unfamiliar. Like it had already stopped belonging to her. Ivy packed slowly. A few medical books. Her tablet. A framed photograph. Her favourite pen. Alice stood nearby, watching. "You know, it's probably the last time you'll see me," Ivy said without looking up. Alice said nothing. Ivy placed another book inside the box. "So you don't have to pretend to be sad." Silence. Ivy finally looked up. Alice was suppressing a smile. There it was. Ivy knew it. "What?" Alice asked. Ivy shook her head slowly. "Nothing." Alice crossed her arms. "Little Miss Perfect. I never thought I'd see this day." Ivy stared at her. "Quite surprised, aren't you?" Alice didn't deny it. Ivy picked up her box. "You should be careful." Alice raised an eyebrow. "Why?" "Your happiness is showing." Alice's smile disappeared. Ivy walked toward the door. Then paused. "Take care, Alice." She walked out before Alice could respond. Outside the hospital, Ivy stood for several seconds without moving. The evening air brushed against her face. People passed around her. Cars moved through the busy street. And for the first time in years— Ivy Manchester had absolutely nowhere to be. Her stomach growled. She looked down. "At least one thing in my life is consistent." Food. She needed food. Immediately. Ivy began walking. A few minutes later, something enormous caught her attention. A billboard. She stopped. Displayed across it was a man surrounded by luxurious cars. Dark hair. Sharp features. An expensive suit. The kind of face that probably caused unnecessary problems for women. Ivy stared. "Must be nice to be rich." She had no idea who he was. And frankly, she didn't care. After staring at the billboard for a few seconds longer than necessary, Ivy continued walking. Eventually, she spotted a restaurant. Perfect. Finally. But the moment she approached, she realized something was wrong. Bodyguards. Crowds. Reporters. Fans screaming. Ivy stopped. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." She tried navigating around the crowd. Someone pushed past her. Then another person bumped into her shoulder. "Ouch!" Ivy stumbled. Her irritation immediately rose. "Seriously?" Then the screaming began. "We love you, Nelson!" "Mr. Black, are you still single?" "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Mr. Black! When do you plan on getting married?" Ivy blinked. Nelson? She looked around. Who exactly was Nelson? She finally managed to make her way into the restaurant. And then she saw him. The man from the billboard. Of course. Of course the entire crowd outside was because of Billboard Guy. Ivy rolled her eyes. She was about to look away when he stood. Her breath caught. Unfortunately. The man was even more attractive in person. Annoying. Ivy quickly looked away. She was hungry, unemployed, exhausted, and apparently losing her ability to think clearly. She took another step. Then stopped. Because he was walking toward her. Ivy looked behind herself. Nobody. She looked back at him. Still coming. One step. Then another. But wait why is he walking up towards me.