Page 34 of Obeying

"Dr. Portland, this will involve a formal review process. You'll have the opportunity to present your side at a hearing before the review committee. In the meantime, your clinical duties may be adjusted during the investigation." She pauses, then closes the folder. "I want you to know that this process is meant to be fair. You will have every chance to tell your side."

"When is the hearing?" I ask.

"We're still working on scheduling. We need to make sure the review committee, the board members, and all involved parties are available. We'll send you the details as soon as it's confirmed."

I nod, thank her, then stand up and walk out.

The hallway is too bright. Too long. People are moving around me, and I don't see any of them. I pass the nurses' station, someone says my name, and I don't stop. I pass Brennan coming out of a patient room, and he says, "Hey, Dr. Portland," and I wave without looking at him because if I look at anyone right now, they'll see it on my face. I make it to the stairwell, push through the door, and my legs stop working on the top step.

I sit down and press my hands against my knees. I try to breathe. The stairwell is cold and echoing and empty, and I'm grateful for all three.

He did it. He actually did it. "Prepare for hell, Kristen," he said. I thought I understood what that meant, but I didn't. Not really. Because this isn't just a threat. This is an annihilation. Every piece of evidence he's using is something I handed him. He didn't have to invent anything. He just had to rearrange what was already true. And not just about me. He dragged Logan into it.

"Kristen."

I look up. Logan is standing at the bottom of the stairwell, looking up at me, and I can tell from his face that he already knows.

"How," I start, but my voice isn't working right. I clear my throat. "How do you know?"

"They told me too." He climbs the stairs and sits down next to me. "The complaint mentions me."

"Oh, yeah. Harmon read me the whole thing." I look at him. "Logan, I'm so sorry. He dragged you into this because you helped me."

"Threatened a visitor. Inappropriate relationship with a resident on my service." He repeats the charges read to him. "He's flipping the entire story. I step in to protect you from being assaulted in the ward, and he turns it into evidence that we're involved."

The guilt hits harder. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I never wanted you to⁠—"

"Stop. Don't apologize for something he did."

I close my mouth.

"What did they say to you?" he asks. "All of it."

I tell him. He listens with that still, focused expression I now understand to mean he's furious and keeping it locked behind a door.

When I'm done, I say, "I can handle this. This is my problem. I'll clear your name. I'll⁠—"

"He named me in the complaint, Portland. He accused me too. He's trying to take both of us down." He looks at me. "I was there. I'm a witness. I have every reason to be involved."

"Logan—"

"Plus, I just don't like the damn bastard."

It catches me off guard. I almost laugh, which is ridiculous because nothing about this is funny. But the way he says it, flat and blunt and completely deadpan, cuts through the panic just enough for me to take a full breath.

"I never wanted you dragged into this," I say. "Your name, your position, everything you've built⁠—"

"Is mine to risk however I want."

I'm quiet. He's quiet. The stairwell is cold and fluorescent and about as far from comfortable as a place can get, but in the silence, something shifts between us. We're not competing. We're not circling each other. We're not keeping score.

"For the first time in our lives," I voice out, "you're suggesting we actually work together."

"Terrifying, I know."

I look at him. "Are we even capable of working together? Remember when the school sent us both to that inter-university competition? We could have easily beaten the other teams, but we lost because we spent the entire time arguing about the best approach and the clock ran out."

He smirks. "Right. But things are different now. Back then, I didn't care about the prize. I cared about being right against you." He looks at me. "Now I care about taking that piece of shit down."