Marcus Hartwell felt as though he had been struck by a lightning bolt that traveled from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. He stood frozen in the sterile, white-tiled corridor of Riverbend General Hospital, his jaw hanging slightly slack.
He had expected a dismissal. He had expected to be brushed off like a persistent fly by a man who treated heads of state and the privileged elite of the Empire. Instead, the Grand Healer of the Realm had not only agreed but had demanded the highest level of publicity possible.
"You... you’re serious?" Marcus stammered, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "You want to expand the scale? You want the entire city to know?"
This wasn't just a win for the hospital; it was a career-defining miracle. If Gordon Whitfield, one
