Page 25 of Wistful Whispers

I knew it in the first five minutes of our initial meeting and I believe it even more now, sitting across from her in a sleek downtown office, my fingers wrapped around my own cup of coffee I haven’t touched.

She’s direct, sharp-eyed, and doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. Which is good, because I don’t have time for them either.

Sarah leans forward, her eyes sharp. “Walk me through it. From the moment you entered the OR to the second it went wrong.”

I exhale, running a hand through my hair, which is way too long. “We were removing Miranda’s tumors with the laser. Caldwell was leading, I was assisting, everything was going to plan—until I saw the blood vessel.”

“And?” She motions with her finger to keep going.

I press my palms against my knees. “I hesitated. Something felt off. I tried to slow down, to warn him.” My throat constricts. “He kept going.”

“Did you explicitly tell him to stop?” Sarah nods, her voice even.

“I said, ‘Dr. Caldwell—’” I hesitate, trying to remember exactly what happened. “He said, ‘I see it. Keep going.’”

She shakes her head in disgust. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” I nod.

Sarah slams her laptop shut. “That moment is everything, Seamus. Caldwell overrode you. He dismissed a clear concern. This isn’t your mistake.”

I rub my eyes with my fists, the memory playing over again. The flicker of doubt. The push forward. The catastrophe. Does it really matter whose fault it is? Miranda’s the one who’s paying the price.

Sarah watches me. “When Marcella Delgado asks you about it tomorrow, don’t hedge. Don’t guess. Just tell the truth exactly like you told me.”

I let out a slow breath, meeting her gaze.

There’s one problem. The truth might not save me.

Not if it buries Caldwell, my mentor. The man who controls my future in neurosurgery.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah’s gaze is unyielding. “You’re hesitating.”

I grip the arms of my chair, my pulse hammering. “It’s not so simple.”

“Itissimple.” She’s deceptively calm. “Seamus. You saw the warning signs. You hesitated for a reason. Caldwell ignored you.”

I look out the window. All of this is moving so fast.

She exhales. “What if I told you you’re not the first?”

The revelation causes me to snap my gaze back to her.

“Caldwell has done this before. Twice. Two other residents.” She shoves a couple of files toward me. “Two other cases. Same story. They trusted him and stayed quiet. Then paid the price. Their careers suffered. Their patients suffered.”

My stomach twists.

Sarah clamps a hand on my wrist. “If you don’t speak up now, Seamus, you’re not protecting Caldwell. You’re letting this happen again.”

Staring down at the files, I know she’s right. The question is—am I ready to break the pattern?

“Both settled out of court. No trial, no testimony. The matters were quietly wrapped up once Caldwell made it very clear the complications weren’t on him.” She lets go of my wrist and waits.

I bury my face in my hands. This is too much. “Do you think he’s doing the same to me?”

“I don’t think, Seamus. I know.” She flips through the files. “I talked to both of them. You need to read these.”

I hesitate, then pick up the first file.

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