5. Marcella
five
Marcella
One Month Later
There’s a certain stillness before battle.
My office hums with it—pages turning, keyboards tapping, tension sharp enough to slice through glass.
We’re preparing to depose Dr. Bryce Caldwell.
He’s not a typical opponent.
I’ve deposed some of the best. He’s different.
Dr. Caldwell isn’t another neurosurgeon.
He’s the neurosurgeon. A man whose techniques have reshaped the field.
Whose innovations have set the standard for modern brain surgery.
The director of neurosurgery at University of Washington Medical Center.
A pioneer. Researcher. Respected educator… and a living legend in his field.
The exact type of defendant juries love.
Someone who doesn’t make mistakes.
Yet, he did.
And, here we are.
I flip through a stack of papers, skimming the highlights of his career—a staggering list of achievements, groundbreaking innovations, and accolades which, taken as a whole, make him practically untouchable.
“He’s been continuously funded by the NIH since the nineties,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone in the room.
“His research has changed how neurosurgeons approach tumor removal,” adds Ethan Reyes, one of the associates, his eyes brimming with reluctant admiration.
“Caldwell essentially pioneered intraoperative imaging guidance and developed new drug delivery systems for targeted chemotherapy. The man is a genius.”
I don’t argue.
I know he’s a genius.
I also know none of it matters. He failed Miranda Black.
“Genius or not,” I set my stack of documents down, “he deviated from the standard of care. He took an unnecessary risk and he’s still liable for what happened to Miranda.”
The slight hesitation in Ethan’s posture tells me he’s conflicted. Skeptical about how we’re going to have to sell this to a jury. A man like Caldwell commands instant respect. Convincing twelve people a world-renowned surgeon made a catastrophic mistake won’t be easy.
That’s where I come in.
I’m going to teach these young lawyers how to win.
Ethan and Natalie Cho, the other associate, are whip smart and ambitious—the same way I was at their age. I catch Natalie chewing on the end of her pen. Fidgeting. Worried.
“Let’s focus on strategy.” I flip to the next section of my notes. “I want to start with his career—set the stage. Walk him through his credentials, his accomplishments. Establish how important he thinks he is.”
Ethan smirks. “You want to inflate his ego before you take a scalpel to it.”
“Something along those lines.” I peer at him over my reading glasses.
At the other end of the table, Natalie scrolls through a document, then suddenly stops. “Wait. I think I found something. In multiple interviews, Caldwell describes himself as a visionary in neurosurgery.” She looks up. “That has to mean something, right?”
Ethan leans back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table. “A visionary?” He exhales sharply. “Wow…bold.” His eyes flick to mine. “What does his monster ego say about him?”
I decide to let them puzzle it out. “Think about it. What kind of person calls themselves a visionary in a field where precision and humility are everything?”
“An asshole?” Natalie’s brows furrow.
I laugh. “True. How can we use this?”
“Focus on the arrogance.” Ethan snaps his fingers. “He doesn’t think he can fail.”
“He probably hates criticism.” Natalie’s rolls her eyes. “Takes unnecessary risks because he believes his own bullshit.”
I nod, pleased. “Exactly. A surgeon who sees himself as untouchable is more likely to push boundaries and take risks without fully considering he could be responsible for the consequences.” I smack my palm on the table for emphasis. “When those risks backfire? Children like Miranda pay the price.”
A slow grin spreads across Ethan’s face. “So we paint him as a man who was so convinced of his own genius he ignored the warning signs?”
“We’re presenting the facts as we see them,” I remind him. “And, yes. You’re getting it. Let’s make sure Caldwell and his legal team understand they’re not in the driver’s seat—we are.”
Natalie leans back in her chair. “So what’s your plan?”
“We chip away at him. Start with the basics, work in the accolades and let him feel comfortable. Once we get into Miranda’s case, I want to walk him through every decision he made in the operating room. Every step.” I glance at Ethan. “When we get to the complication?”
“We make him defensive,” Ethan finishes.
I nod. “It works pretty well with self-important guys.”
At least I hope it will because it’s not enough to know what happened. Not enough the Black family knows what happened.
Bryce Caldwell has to admit it and explain why he did it.
If and when he does, I’ll be ready.
“What do we have on the rest of the surgical team? I know Seamus McGloughlin assisted; I wonder if Caldwell will try to pin it on his protégée?” I glance at the clock. It’s pushing eight p.m. We need to wrap this up so I can get some sleep.
There’s a beat of hesitation before Ethan clears his throat. “Right. So, uh, about him…”
I glance over, catching the silent eyeball exchange between him and Natalie and recall what Joe Finney warned me about. Did he say something to Ethan and Natalie?
“What’s going on with the looks?” I gesture between them.
Natalie sighs, setting her tablet down. “Well… He’s not some random resident, Marcella. He’s, um, kind of a thing at the hospital.”
“A thing?” I frown.
“I mean, we started pulling research on him after you flagged his name for deposition prep.” Ethan smirks. “Let’s say, people talk.”
My brow arches. “People talk about what?”
“I might as well tell you…my college roommate is in medical school. She did a surgical rotation or something last year. I mentioned I was working on a case involving Dr. McGloughlin, and she practically swooned through the phone.” Natalie waggles her eyebrows.
“Apparently, he’s the guy every woman at the hospital covets… ”
I steel my expression because—gah.
Ethan snorts. “C’mon. Call it. His body count is through the roof.”
“Excuse me?” I blink rapidly, knowing how I must seem to these young lawyers. A fat, middle-aged spinster who gets embarrassed talking about sex. They probably think I’m a virgin.
“True. Apparently, it’s not only about how he looks—though, I mean…” She waves a hand to fan herself. “You’ve seen him.”
I grit my teeth.
Yes, I’ve seen him. I know exactly how ridiculously handsome he is.
I’ve nearly burnt out the battery on my vibrator while picturing the man. Though, I’m not confessing this to anyone. Ever.
“Everyone says the same thing—he’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. Kind, funny, easygoing…” Natalie pauses dramatically. “He has a nickname.” She looks at Ethan and then me, her cheeks pinkening. “The man is actually known as ‘ The Orgasm Whisperer .’”
Ethan bursts out in laughter and I can’t help it when my jaw hits the floor. “What do they mean?”
“It means he’s strictly a fuckboy. Doesn’t date. No relationships. If the stories are to be believed, the good doctor has an encyclopedic knowledge of female anatomy.” She covers her face with her hand.
I pinch the bridge of my nose because this is the last thing I expected to be discussing tonight and I need to steer the ship on course. “So you’re telling me Seamus McGloughlin is a walking HR violation?”
“More like a walking, talking hospital legend.” Ethan grins like the man is his hero.
Jesus .
“Well, all of this is very interesting.” I exhale, rolling my shoulders back. “Except, I don’t care what he’s doing when he’s not holding a scalpel. I care about what happened inside the OR.” I glance at Ethan. “Regardless of what Caldwell does tomorrow, we should get his deposition scheduled.”
Ethan nods and looks down at his laptop.
“I know it’s inappropriate, Marcella, so forgive me. How do you prep to sit across from a defendant for hours knowing what his nickname is?” Natalie blushes.
I narrow my eyes. “It’s called professionalism. You can giggle and gossip about this in your free time. Not in the workplace. You should know better.”
Despite myself, I feel the shift in the air.
Caldwell is the enemy I trained for.
I know how to disarm arrogance, crush ego, win with blood on my heels.
Seamus McGloughlin?
He’s not a fight.
He’s a distraction who might cost me everything if I’m not careful.