Not A Small-Town Girl

Chapter 5-1

"His vitals are crashing. We’re in the optimal treatment window," Danielle’s cool voice cut through the chaos. "Another hour and not even God could save him."

"And who’d take responsibility if he dies on the table?" Savannah snapped, rounding on Danielle. "Go play doctor somewhere else."

"Quacks," Danielle muttered, examining her nails.

"What did you just call us?" Savannah’s face flushed crimson.

"Savannah, don’t argue with a young girl. The patient’s condition is our priority right now," Christopher said diplomatically.

"She called me a quack!" Savannah’s voice rose shrilly. She, the youngest associate chief of surgery with a wall full of awards, bristled at having her competence questioned by this girl.

"She doesn’t understand the situation, so why bother arguing?" Christopher focused solely on Logan’s crisis. No matter what, they couldn’t let him die in their hospital-the consequences would affect not just the institution, but everyone present.

"I can do the surgery," Danielle stated, arms crossed casually.

"You? Are you even old enough to drive? Have a medical license?" Savannah’s laugh dripped acid. "He’s had multiple failed heart surgeries. His heart’s completely compromised-no surgeon or hospital in the country would dare touch it."

"Drop it, Savannah," Christopher said, wanting to end the argument.

Without a word, Danielle slapped her credentials on the counter. The room fell silent at her attending physician status-nearly impossible for someone twice her age.

The revelation landed like a slap across Savannah’s face. The surrounding doctors stared in disbelief. ’An attending physician? That’s practically professor level... but she’s so young-how is this even possible?’

"Shall we begin?" Danielle’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

"Perfect scapegoat," a resident whispered to his colleague in a corner.

"She’s not staff," Savannah muttered back. "You know Mr. Charrington’s grandson. He’d burn this place to the ground, scapegoat or not."

"But what do we do now?" the resident asked

helplessly.

"Listen, girl," Christopher said, trying to defuse the situation. "This is an extremely high-risk surgery. Even Dr. Wood isn’t confident of success.

"In the patient’s current condition, only the miracle healer could guarantee his survival. The risk is simply too high-it’s beyond our expertise to make that call."

Ethan, who’d been observing silently, spoke. "You can save him? Walk me through it."

"Immediate surgery. You’ll assist," Danielle said.

"The audacity!" Savannah sputtered. "Who do you think you are? Ordering around the director?"

"Dr. Wood, let’s not waste time arguing with her," Savannah continued with unconcealed disdain. "We’re running out of time-let’s use medications to keep him stable until the family arrives."

"Prep OR One. I’m assisting." Ethan’s tone brooked no argument.

"Dr. Wood, please!" Savannah exclaimed. "Thirty percent survival rate at best, and given Mr. Charrington’s status-our hospital can’t handle the responsibility if something goes wrong!"

"I’ll take full responsibility for any consequences,"