Five years had passed since I was restored to my rightful place as the biological daughter of the Simmons family. Nora Qiao, the girl who had taken my place, was forced to revert to her original surname.
Yet my mother's affection for her didn't wane. If anything, guilt over Nora losing the family name only deepened their bond.
Nora grew more entitled, while I remained nothing more than a blood relative tethered to the house by obligation.
I clawed my way up, earning my nursing license and grinding through a three-year internship to become head nurse. Nora? She claimed she was bored, so Mom forced the hospital to take her on as a doctor to "gain life experience."
Even this surgery roster had been manipulated by my mother's demands.
The favoritism was so blatant they didn't bother to mask it. Whispers rippled through the operating theater.
"No wonder Dr. Qiao is always butting heads with the head nurse..."
"You'd think the biological daughter would get some respect, but look at this..."
I inhaled sharply, forcing the air deep into my lungs.
"The gossip is irrelevant," I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs. I locked eyes with Nora. "Find the missing gauze before your shift ends. Until you do, don't even think about leaving this room."
Nora's face flushed crimson.
"Who do you think you are?" she snapped. "I'm a doctor. You're just a nurse. You think you're worthy of speaking to me like that? I'm leaving."
She stepped forward, shoving past me.
Bang.
A heavy fist pounded against the operating room door.
"What is going on in here?"
The deep baritone made my shoulders sag with relief.
The Director.
Also my husband—Nathaniel Fleming.
I pulled the door open. Nathaniel strode in, his presence immediately dominating the sterile room. His gaze swept the area, pausing briefly on Nora's sulking face before settling on me.
"The surgery is over. Why are you all still here, Rachel?"
"We have a problem." I kept my tone strictly professional. "During the post-op count, we discovered a piece of hemostatic gauze is missing."
I didn't wait for a response.
"Director, we need to lock down the surgical suite immediately. The entire medical team must cooperate with the search, and we need to inform the patient's family. Transparency is critical."
His brow furrowed slightly, so I pressed on.
"I know this impacts the hospital's reputation, but a retained foreign object is a severe medical error. Furthermore, regarding Nora's negligence as the third assistant during the count—"
"Let me ask you," Nathaniel interrupted, his voice devoid of warmth. "Did the surgery go smoothly?"
I blinked.
"...Yes. The lead surgeon noted it went better than expected."
"And the patient's vitals? Stable?"
I understood the implication. But I refused to believe he would stoop so low.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm saying," Nathaniel frowned, looking at me as if I were a petulant child fussing over a broken toy, "the patient is fine. The surgery was a success. Isn't that enough? Why are you dwelling on this?"
He turned to the rest of the room. "That's it. Everyone is dismissed."
Nora let out a sharp, triumphant giggle.
"Exactly! Nathaniel is right. It's just a little piece of gauze." She latched onto his arm, swaying as she pouted. "I've been standing for hours. I'm exhausted, and I need my beauty sleep."
Nathaniel's expression softened into something dangerously close to doting. He reached out, smoothing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
"Alright. I'll drive you home."
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Nathaniel Fleming never showed warmth to subordinates. He was ice and steel.
Even I, his wife, was bound by his strict rules of separating public and private life. At work, he was Director Fleming, and I was Nurse Simmons. We barely exchanged glances, let alone intimate touches.
But everything had shifted two weeks ago. During a family trip, Nora had nearly drowned, and Nathaniel had pulled her from the water. Since then, the dynamic had changed.
I dug my fingernails into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me.
"So, you intend to bury this?" I asked, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You aren't going to handle this properly, Nathaniel?"
He scoffed, his face hardening back into a mask of indifference.
