Chapter 6 - An Unexpected Witness in the Surgical Suite
The heavy oak door swung inward with a slow, agonizing squeak, revealing a tall, imposing figure standing in the doorway. It was Director Vance, the chief administrator of St. Jude’s Hospital, dressed in an expensive charcoal suit that looked entirely out of place in the sterile surgical wing at midnight. His silver hair was neatly combed, and his sharp eyes immediately took in the chaotic scene: Dr. Miller standing over the stainless-steel table, Leo frozen at the scrub sink, and Lily lying unconscious beneath the blinding glare of the surgical lights.
Director Vance’s expression did not register shock; instead, it settled into a cold, practiced mask of dangerous calculation.
"Arthur," Director Vance said smoothly, stepping fully into the room and letting the heavy door click shut behind him. "I thought you were reviewing patient intake files in your office. Care to explain why there is an unauthorized child on an operating table, and why a runaway vagrant is standing in a restricted surgical suite?"
Dr. Miller lowered the scalpel slowly, his breathing noticeably heavier than before. He forced an uneasy, tight smile onto his face, though beads of sweat glistened visibly on his forehead.
"Director Vance, thank goodness you're here," Miller lied smoothly, recovering his composure with practiced ease. "This young girl was brought into the emergency lobby in critical condition with a ruptured appendix. Dr. Helen abandoned her post, and I stepped in to perform an emergency life-saving intervention. The boy is assisting me under my direct supervision."
Leo opened his mouth to shout the truth, to expose the lies and the stolen money, but a sharp, warning glare from Dr. Miller across the room silenced him instantly. Miller’s hand drifted casually toward the surgical tray, hovering terrifyingly close to a heavy pair of surgical shears.
Director Vance looked slowly from Miller to Leo, his gaze lingering on the heavy bulge in the front pocket of Leo’s blue hoodie where the leather journal rested. A knowing, predatory glint flickered deep within Vance’s eyes.
"Is that right, boy?" Director Vance asked, his voice dropping an octave as he walked slowly toward the operating table. "You're assisting with a complex surgical procedure? Or perhaps you brought something else up from the basement archives that caught Dr. Miller's attention?"
Leo backed away from the sink, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "I didn't do anything wrong. We just wanted help."
"Help is a very expensive commodity at St. Jude's," Vance replied coldly, reaching out to gently touch Lily’s cold forehead before pulling his hand away with visible distaste. "Arthur, lock the doors. We need a private conversation about what exactly is written inside your late engineer friend's little red book."
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Before Miller could move toward the door, a sudden, frantic pounding erupted from the hallway outside, accompanied by the muffled sound of shouting voices and heavy boots rushing down the corridor.
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