Chapter 9 - THE THREE-HUNDRED-THOUSAND-DOLLAR REASON
The bonus was not illegal.
High-profile clinical programs often include performance incentives.
What mattered was disclosure.
Marcus had not told me.
More importantly, compliance needed to know whether the financial incentive affected his decisions.
His attorneys insisted it did not.
Maybe they were right.
Intent is difficult to prove.
But incentives matter even when people insist they do not.
I built another timeline.
Not for revenge.
For myself.
Month one:
Marcus and Elena begin relationship.
Month four:
Infection anomalies appear.
Month six:
Elena changes adverse-event classifications.
Month seven:
Marcus questions classifications once.
Month eight:
Bonus milestone approaching.
Month eight:
I become seriously ill with matching bacterial strain.
Marcus accesses my chart repeatedly.
Unauthorized orders entered.
Marcus does not visit.
Project closes.
Award ceremony.
Divorce papers served.
Record amendments begin.
There it was.
Not a murder plot.
Not a grand conspiracy.
Something more believable.
A series of selfish decisions.
Each one small enough for Marcus to justify.
Together, catastrophic.
Then Elena requested a meeting with me.
Through attorneys.
I refused at first.
Sarah asked:
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What if she has information?”
That changed my mind.
We met in Sarah’s conference room.
Elena looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair tied back.
No elegant white coat.
She sat across from me and said:
“I’m sorry.”
I almost laughed.
“Everybody is.”
She flinched.
Good.
Then she said:
“Marcus didn’t alter your medication intentionally.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was beside him.”
My hands went cold.
“He was comparing your chart to patient 506.”
“Without authorization.”
“Yes.”
“He entered three orders.”
“He was switching between windows. He clicked the wrong chart.”
“All three times?”
She closed her eyes.
“He was distracted.”
By what?
Me dying upstairs?
Their affair?
Research data?
It hardly mattered.
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“Because Patel corrected everything.”
“So no harm, no problem?”
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“I’m not defending it.”
“Then why are you here?”
She swallowed.
“Because there’s something Marcus doesn’t know.”
Of course.
There was always another layer.
“What?”
“The infection report.”
She looked toward Sarah.
Then back at me.
“I didn’t change those classifications alone.”
“Who helped you?”
Elena’s mouth tightened.
“Dr. Stephen Hale.”
Chief Medical Officer.
One of the most powerful people in Metropolitan General.
He had signed off on the transplant project.
Elena continued:
“He told me the hospital could not afford another outbreak scandal.”
My stomach dropped.
Another.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
She looked terrified.
“This wasn’t the first sterilization problem.”
