The Heir in the White Coat

Gracie Foster froze.

"What did you say?"

I closed the medical file and pushed it back toward her.

"I won't take this patient."

The exam room fell silent.

Gracie stared at me, her frown deepening.

Lionel Foster sat in his wheelchair, his complexion a little poor, though he still seemed alert enough.

It had been 20 years.

They had lived well.

Gracie was the treasured heiress of the Fosters, and Lionel was the precious darling everyone in the family protected.

They probably would never recognize that the leading cardiologist sitting before them in glasses was the real heir they had once shut out.

"I know you're the top cardiologist in the city. Getting an appointment with you isn't easy. But don't worry. Money isn't a problem. As long as you can save my brother, you can name your price."

Gracie held a black card between two fingers and placed it on my desk.

I lowered my eyes to it, then looked back at her.

"The hospital has rules, and I'm refusing him because his condition doesn't fall within my scope of treatment."

"What do you mean?"

Gracie froze again.

"I asked around. You've even brought patients with late-stage heart failure back from the brink.

"My brother only has a heart murmur and occasional chest pain. And you're saying you can't treat him?"

Lionel coughed twice and tugged at the hem of Gracie's clothes.

"Gracie, forget it… I don't want you lowering yourself for me…"

That look was exactly the same as it had been in my last life when he accused me of pushing him down the stairs.

Gracie's heart broke for him. She turned her hand over and held his. When she looked back at me, her eyes were sharp as blades.

"Dr. Reid, is the money not enough? Fine. I'll put it another way. If you admit my brother today, Foster Enterprise will donate six million in equipment to your cardiology department tomorrow. Is that enough?"

Several interns beside me drew in sharp breaths.

I didn't even lift my eyelids.

"Ms. Foster, I choose patients based on their illness, not their money. I won't treat your brother. Take your card and leave."

Gracie gave a cold laugh, her eyes filled with contempt. "You just don't have the confidence to cure my brother, do you? Some top specialist! Looks to me like your reputation is all hype."

"Gracie, stop… My chest hurts…"

Lionel clutched his chest, breathing hard.

"Lionel!"

Gracie panicked and quickly motioned for the bodyguards to push his wheelchair.

When she reached the door, she turned back and glared at me.

After they left, I touched the locket in my pocket.

Early the next morning, I had just finished rounds when the director, who was usually all smiles, walked into my office with a dark expression.

"Theo, you're fired."

My pen stopped. I looked up at Anthony Wilder.

"Why?"

"Why?" Anthony gave a cold snort. "What kind of attitude was that yesterday with Ms. Foster? You're a doctor. Aren't you supposed to have compassion? Do you have any ethics at all? You actually turned away a critically ill patient!"

My gaze shifted downward and landed on the brand-new watch on his wrist.

He hadn't been wearing it yesterday.

I understood.

"How much did she donate?"

My voice was calm.

Anthony's face changed. Then, embarrassed and angry, he snapped, "What are you implying? This was the hospital board's decision! Pack your things and get out immediately."