Prologue #3
Rowan walked into the small conference room where the parents waited.
This was not a good day. The three-year-old girl had been brought in by the police.
He didn’t even want to tell the parents what he’d found when trying to save her life.
Her aunt and uncle had been watching her while her parents had taken a weekend trip for their anniversary.
The little girl’s sixteen-year-old cousin was babysitting while his parents were at a work dinner, and had tortured her in ways he hoped the parents never found out about.
Neighbors had heard the screams and called the police.
The hospital had called the parents, who had driven three hours to get here.
“How’s our baby?” her mother asked. “Can we see her?”
Rowan swallowed hard and tried to keep his composure. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Robertson. Emma didn’t make it. Her injuries were too serious and we couldn’t stop the internal bleeding in time.”
Abuse was a part of medicine that Rowan never thought he’d have to face, but he faced it more often than he thought possible. Shaken babies, rapes, neglect, beatings . . . he’d seen it all and each time it took a bit of his soul.
“What did he do to our baby?” Mr. Robertson asked, completely distraught as they clung to each other. “Did she suffer?”
“This is a police matter now, but I’ll tell you this: I will fight very hard for your daughter in court so you don’t have to. Take this time to remember the good, not this bad, and mourn your daughter.”
Rowan left the couple crying in the room. The detective was waiting for him right outside. “She didn’t make it,” the detective said, having already guessed from the cries coming from inside the conference room.
Rowan nodded. “Let me tell you about what we found. It makes me wish Massachusetts had the death penalty.” Rowan gave his statement and promised to testify in court. He’d fought to save Emma’s life. The least he could do now was give her the final word in court.
Rowan took the elevator to the top floor after giving his statement.
He didn’t go to the helipad. Instead, he went to a rooftop area where some staffers snuck out for a smoke break.
There was a bench there that he now sat on.
Two years and he’d become a name in the pediatric surgery world.
He didn’t have those glowing stats that surgeons loved to brag about, but he had performed surgeries no other pediatric surgeon had done before.
However, today was a day he never wanted to repeat. But sadly, he would.
His phone rang as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, exhaustion clear in his voice.
“Are you okay?”
“Hard day. What’s up, Damon? Are you still trying to get me to move to Shadows Landing? Olivia is safe from Ryker. He’s with that nurse now.”
“I think you need to take a break,” his brother told him. Like always.
“If I take a break, then who will save them, D?”
“If you don’t take a break, then who will save you?” Rowan rubbed his hand over his face. He didn’t need a lecture right now. “I’m calling because of Liv.”
“Is she okay?” Rowan asked about his older sister, Olivia.
“I think Granger is trying to knock her up.”
Rowan shook his head at his brother. “You’re always meddling, brother.”
“Yeah, and aren’t you getting tired of the Boston winters yet, brother?
What if Olivia gets pregnant. You know more than anyone the dangers of that.
You should be here. Enough visiting. It’s time to move here.
Kenzie said she’d show you around both of the hospitals in Charleston to see if you liked them.
She said you’d have your pick of nurses to date. ”
Rowan opened his eyes as if just realizing it was cold out. Dr. Cohen was throwing a fit again, making life hard for him because he was such a young doctor who ‘hadn’t paid his dues,’ but was getting the perks of a senior doctor. Freaking hospital politics. It was exhausting.
Rowan pulled out his phone. Something about Charleston rang a bell.
“Hold on, D.” He scrolled through his email, most of which sat unread, until he saw it.
Charleston Children’s Hospital had sent him an email.
Rowan opened it and read the email. They had heard of Rowan and what he was doing in Boston and wanted to start a whole program at their hospital to support these hard cases.
Would he be interested in talking to them about running it?
The door opened and one of the lawyers stepped out, even though it was eleven at night. “Hey. We need to talk. There’s been another complaint filed against you.”
“From a parent?” Rowan asked, not surprised. It was easy for parents to blame him when he couldn’t save their child.
“No. Internally. Again.”
“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll meet you in your office,” Rowan told him. He nodded and headed inside.
“Damon, let me get back to you in a couple of minutes.”
“Ro, it’s eleven at night. Get some sleep and call me in the morning.”
“Give me fifteen minutes.” Rowan hung up and pressed the link in the email for the phone number of the hospital.
“Charleston Children’s Hospital, how can I help you?” the woman asked.
“This is Dr. Rowan Townsend. I need to get a hold of Dr. Timir Patel.”
“He’ll be back in the hospital tomorrow at eight. I can connect you to his voicemail.”
“I need you to connect me to his cell phone. Call him and tell him Dr. Rowan Townsend is interested in hearing what he has to say but I need to talk to him in the next five minutes or I’ll go to Atlanta.”
“Hold please.” She sounded irritated, but it only took one minute for her to be back on the line. “I’ll connect you now.”
“Dr. Townsend? This is Timir Patel. What can I do for you? I take it you got my email.”
“I’ve heard your winters aren’t so bad in Charleston. Tell me about this program you want me to run.”
Rowan listened to Dr. Patel and liked what he heard. “And I’d have complete control of my cases and the cases the team takes?”
“Yes. You also have complete control over hiring your entire team. I would, of course, have the final say on contracts and the final program, but I intend to work with you, not against you,” Dr. Patel told him.
“And I understand the toll of what you’re doing can take.
The compensation will be commensurate with the long hours and stress you’ll be under. ”
Rowan almost laughed. In Boston, he was still under the yearly pay increases, so he was making hardly anything since he was technically a year-two surgeon. “And what do you believe that would look like?”
“One million to start.”
That was definitely not even close to what he was making now. “What kind of budget would I have for hiring?”
“Ten million for a full team, including your million.”
“Dr. Patel, we have a deal provided I like my tour of the hospital. Send the contract to my attorney, Olivia Townsend,” he said, rattling off her email and phone number.
“This is very exciting. I can’t wait to work with you, Dr. Townsend.”
Rowan hung up and called Damon back as he began the long walk to legal. It wasn’t HR, but they’d take his resignation anyway. “Damon, you’re talking to the new senior pediatric surgeon of Charleston Children’s Hospital. I’ll see you soon, brother.”