Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Trap
The quarterly gala for the Midwest Medical Association was the most anticipated event of the season, and Lawson Sterling had planned to use it as his coronation. Despite the sudden turbulence with Faye and the mysterious administrative holds at work, Lawson convinced himself he could charm his way past the obstacles. After all, he was brilliant, charismatic, and indispensable to the surgical wing.
He arrived at the grand ballroom in a custom tuxedo, with Tess nervously clinging to his arm. The whispers started before they even reached the grand staircase. Senior physicians who used to pat Lawson on the back now offered polite, icy nods before turning away.
"Don't worry about them," Lawson murmured to Tess, his jaw tight. "Once I deliver my keynote speech on emergency surgical innovations, everyone will forget the gossip."
As they entered the main dining hall, Lawson looked toward the dais where the keynote speakers were seated. His breath caught in his throat.
Sitting in the center chair—reserved exclusively for the keynote speaker and the primary benefactor of the association—was Faye Harrington.
She wore an emerald silk gown that seemed to capture every light in the room, her hair styled in sleek, elegant waves. Gone was the exhausted mother in the soot-stained dress; in her place stood the brilliant, poised woman who had once graduated at the top of her Johns Hopkins medical class before stepping aside for his career.
Lawson stopped dead in his tracks. "What is she doing up there?"
Before Tess could answer, the room’s ambient chatter dimmed, and the association president stepped up to the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, before Dr. Sterling delivers his address, we have a special keynote introduction tonight. We are honored to welcome back Dr. Faye Harrington, board member of Harrington Health Capital and the newly appointed chair of our emergency response oversight committee."
The room erupted into polite applause. Lawson stared in horror as Faye stood up, adjusted the microphone, and looked directly out into the crowd—her gaze locking instantly onto his white-faced expression near the back doors.
"Good evening," Faye’s voice rang out, clear, melodic, and chillingly calm. "Tonight, we are going to talk about emergency protocols. We are going to talk about the critical difference between those who run toward a crisis to save lives, and those who use a crisis as an excuse to abandon the people who trust them."
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Lawson felt the air leave his lungs. He tried to take a step backward toward the exit, but two security guards silently materialized on either side of him, blocking his path.
"Specifically," Faye continued, her eyes never leaving him, "we are going to examine professional ethics on the seventeenth floor."
