Chapter 5 - The Sound of Breaking Glass
At Lincoln Memorial Hospital, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the gleaming opulence of the Lumis Hotel. The pediatric cardiology wing smelled of antiseptic, floor wax, and faint lemon disinfectant.
Sloan stood at the nurses' station, signing discharge instructions for the mother of a six-year-old heart surgery patient, when the head administrator cleared his throat behind her.
"Dr. Hayes, can I see you in my office for a moment?" Dr. Vance looked uncomfortable, shifting a thick manila folder between his hands.
Once inside the cramped office, Vance closed the frosted glass door. "It's about your research grant for the congenital valve study, Sloan. The board reviewed it this morning. Specifically... Mrs. Pell."
"Vivien Pell doesn't sit on the medical board," Sloan said, her voice steady. "She's head of the charity gala committee."
"She is a major donor, Sloan, and her family's foundation underwrites half of our pediatric equipment overhead," Vance sighed, rubbing his temples. "She claims there's a conflict of interest regarding your community outreach work—specifically your unauthorized... interactions with high-profile donors' family members outside official channels."
Sloan stared at him. "An unauthorized interaction? I gave a cold, hungry child a grape and taught her three signs."
"Politics isn't about what happened, Sloan; it's about whose feathers got ruffled," Vance said apologetically. "They're freezing the grant until further notice. I'm sorry."
Before Sloan could answer, the door to the office didn't just open—it swung violently inward, crashing against the rubber wall stop with a sound that made both doctors jump.
Daniel Rock stood in the doorway. He wasn't wearing his boardroom mask. His tie was loosened, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his breathing was heavy as if he had taken the stairs all forty flights.
"Dr. Vance," Daniel said, his voice deadly quiet. "I hear my family's foundation name being thrown around in a very ugly game of bureaucratic blackmail."
Vance blinked, rising half out of his chair. "Mr. Rock! I wasn't aware you were visiting the hospital—"
"I'm not visiting. I'm auditing," Daniel stepped into the tiny office, towering over the administrator. "My grandfather built the west wing of this hospital. My family name is etched into the cornerstone outside. And every single cent of the Rock Foundation's ten-million-dollar annual endowment to Lincoln Memorial is tied to one condition: that absolute medical and administrative autonomy is granted to clinical staff—specifically pediatric cardiology."
Sloan looked up at Daniel, her eyes wide with shock. "Daniel, you don't have to—"
May you like
"I do," Daniel cut her off, his voice softening just a fraction as he looked at her. Then he turned back to Vance. "If Dr. Hayes's grant is delayed by so much as twenty-four hours, or if anyone on this board harasses her again over a socialite's bruised ego, I will pull every cent, reassign our grants to a competing research hospital across state lines, and hold a press conference detailing exactly how this hospital values socialite politics over children's hearts. Am I clear?"
Vance swallowed hard, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Crystal clear, Mr. Rock. The grant... the grant is fully approved. Effective immediately."
