It was 10 a.m. the next morning. Inside the multi-function conference room on the top floor of the hospital, the atmosphere was so thick and oppressive you could practically cut it with a knife. No one could draw a full breath.
The investigation team from the Health Department sat at the center of the table, with the hospital director and top brass on the sides.
In the front row of the family section sat the eldest son of the Lane family, his face pale and tight with unbridled rage, flanked by a handful of his bodyguards.
Felix and Ivy sat at the presentation table up front.
Ivy's eyes were puffy and red; she had clearly just been crying.
She stood up and got her strike in first, before anyone could challenge her, and projected a printed "instrument checklist" onto the big screen.
"D
