Episode Three: Suspension
1533 Words
I knew something was wrong the second I stepped into my apartment.
It was too quiet.
Usually, the television was on because Mom liked the background noise while resting on the couch. My brother Mateo normally argued with sports commentators like they could hear him through the screen.
But today?
Silence.
Heavy silence.
I closed the apartment door slowly behind me.
“Mom?”
No answer.
My chest tightened immediately.
I moved through the tiny living room and froze.
Mom sat at the dining table gripping her phone with both hands.
Mateo stood near the window looking furious.
And spread across the table between them—
Printed articles.
About me.
Wonderful.
“Elena,” Mateo said the second he saw me. “You need to sue those people.”
I dropped my bag beside the couch. “Can we not start?”
“They posted your picture everywhere!”
“I noticed.”
Mom looked up at me with red, tired eyes.
That hit harder than the articles.
She’d been crying.
Guilt crashed into me instantly.
“I told you not to read comments online,” I said softly.
“You think I can ignore this?” Mateo snapped. “They’re calling you a murderer.”
“Mateo,” Mom warned weakly.
“No, seriously.” He grabbed one paper off the table. “Look at this headline.”
I didn’t need to.
I already knew.
Because I could still hear the whispers from outside the hospital.
The nurse who killed her.
I rubbed my temples.
A headache pounded behind my eyes.
“I’m going to shower,” I muttered.
“Elena.” Mom’s voice stopped me.
I turned back.
“Did you make a mistake?”
The question sliced straight through my chest.
Not because she blamed me.
Because she looked terrified asking it.
I walked toward her slowly.
Then knelt beside her chair.
“No,” I said firmly. “I swear to you, Mom. We did everything we could.”
She searched my face for several seconds.
Finally, she nodded.
“I believe you.”
Relief hit so hard it almost hurt.
Mateo cursed under his breath and threw the newspaper back onto the table.
“This is because they’re rich,” he muttered. “If it was a normal patient, nobody would care.”
The sad part?
He was probably right.
I stood and headed toward the bathroom before the conversation could continue.
The mirror nearly made me flinch.
God.
I looked awful.
Dark circles.
Pale skin.
Hair barely controlled in a messy bun.
I looked exactly like the kind of exhausted healthcare worker people online loved blaming.
I turned on the shower and stepped under the freezing water.
For the first time since last night, I finally let myself cry.
Quietly.
Just enough to let the pressure c***k a little.
Because no matter how many times I repeated it in my head, one thought wouldn’t leave me alone.
What if I missed something?
The possibility crawled under my skin like poison.
By the time I changed into clean clothes, my phone had twenty more notifications.
I ignored all of them.
Until one message caught my attention.
Hospital Administration: Mandatory meeting at 2 PM.
My stomach dropped instantly.
No.
No no no.
I checked the time.
1:07 PM.
I had barely slept.
Mom looked up nervously when I grabbed my keys again.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to go back to the hospital.”
Mateo frowned. “Already?”
“It’s administration.”
That explained everything.
The room fell quiet.
Because we all knew what administration meetings usually meant.
Problems.
I forced a smile I didn’t feel.
“It’ll be okay.”
Nobody looked convinced.
Including me.
Harborview Medical Center looked different now.
People stared openly when I walked through the entrance.
Some pretended not to.
Others didn’t bother pretending at all.
A nurse from pediatrics quickly looked away the second our eyes met.
Two interns whispered near the elevators.
Humiliation crawled up my spine.
I kept walking.
Head down.
Fast.
But the whispers followed anyway.
“That’s her.”
“She looks exhausted.”
“I heard the family is suing.”
“I heard Vale himself demanded an investigation.”
Fantastic.
Just fantastic.
By the time I reached administration, my hands were already shaking again.
Three people waited inside the conference room.
Dr. Harris.
A woman from HR.
And another man I recognized from Vale Medical Group corporate management.
My pulse sped up immediately.
The HR woman gave me a rehearsed smile.
“Elena, please sit.”
Nobody says “please sit” before good news.
I lowered myself into the chair slowly.
The corporate man adjusted his tie before speaking.
“As you know, public concern surrounding the recent incident has escalated significantly.”
Incident.
Funny word for someone dying.
“We have launched a formal internal review.”
I swallowed hard.
Dr. Harris finally looked at me.
And somehow that hurt worse.
Because he looked guilty.
“Elena,” he said quietly, “until the investigation concludes…”
No.
Please no.
“…you’re being placed on temporary suspension.”
Everything inside me went numb.
“What?”
The HR woman slid paperwork across the table.
“It’s standard procedure.”
“No, it isn’t.” My voice cracked sharply. “People die in emergency rooms every day.”
The corporate manager’s expression remained cold.
“This case involves a high-profile family.”
There it was.
The real reason.
Anger flared hot inside my chest.
“You’re suspending me because Damian Vale is rich.”
“Ms. Reyes—”
“I did my job!”
My voice echoed louder than I intended.
Nobody answered.
Because deep down?
They knew I was right.
I looked toward Dr. Harris desperately.
“Tell them.”
His jaw tightened.
“Elena…”
That hesitation told me everything.
He wasn’t going to fight for me.
Not against the Vale family.
Not against corporate pressure.
Not against money.
The betrayal stung more than I expected.
The HR woman softened her tone slightly.
“This suspension is unpaid.”
The words punched the air out of my lungs.
Unpaid.
Mom’s treatment.
Rent.
Bills.
Mateo’s tuition.
Everything flashed through my mind at once.
“You can’t do this,” I whispered.
But they already had.
The corporate manager pushed the paperwork closer.
“Please surrender your ID badge before leaving the building.”
For a second, I genuinely thought I might throw up.
That badge represented years of work.
Years.
Long nights.
Missed holidays.
Exhaustion.
Sacrifice.
And now they wanted it back like I meant nothing.
Slowly, I unclipped the badge from my scrubs.
My hands trembled as I placed it on the table.
Nobody met my eyes.
Cowards.
I stood abruptly before they could say anything else.
“Elena—” Dr. Harris started.
I looked directly at him.
“You know this isn’t my fault.”
Silence.
That was answer enough.
I walked out before anyone could see the tears burning in my eyes.
The hallway blurred slightly as I moved toward the elevators.
I just needed air.
Space.
Something.
The elevator doors opened.
And of course—
Damian Vale stepped out.
Like the universe personally hated me.
He stopped immediately when he saw my face.
Then his eyes dropped to my empty scrub pocket where my ID badge used to hang.
Understanding flickered across his expression.
My humiliation turned vicious instantly.
“You got what you wanted.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Elena—”
“Congratulations.” I laughed bitterly. “Your company just destroyed the life of another exhausted healthcare worker.”
People nearby suddenly became very interested in not looking at us.
Damian’s voice lowered.
“I didn’t order your suspension.”
“But you didn’t stop it.”
Something unreadable crossed his face.
I hated that expression.
Because for one dangerous second, it almost looked like guilt.
Then his gaze shifted behind me toward the conference room doors.
His expression hardened again immediately.
Cold billionaire back in place.
“I’ll handle this.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Handle this?”
Anger exploded through me so fast I almost shook.
“You think money fixes everything.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“You don’t get to play hero now.”
His eyes locked onto mine.
“I never claimed to be a hero.”
The honesty in that answer caught me off guard.
And somehow made him even more dangerous.
I stepped back before I could think too hard about that.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
Something flickered across his face again.
Quick.
Sharp.
Almost painful.
But it vanished before I could understand it.
Then his phone rang.
He answered without taking his eyes off me.
“Yes.”
A pause.
His expression darkened instantly.
“When?”
Another pause.
Then—
“Find out who leaked the footage.”
My breath caught.
Footage?
Damian ended the call slowly.
And the way he looked at me afterward made cold fear creep down my spine.
Because suddenly…
This situation was becoming much bigger than either of us expected.
- Writer
