“No,” Liana agreed. “It’s just her personality. She’s a teacher to the newer staff, a counselor to the others, and she’s been here so long, there’s no crisis she doesn’t know how to manage.”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “What does that mean? Practically.”
“It means that when she’s gone, we’re likely going to see a higher turnover in new staff, significantly increased training costs, and a lot more mistakes being made, which also risks more lawsuits and related expenses. Plus, you’ll end up hiring at least two people to replace all those roles she does for free.”
I nodded slowly, processing. “Who else have we got?”
She clicked into another file. “Mark Delaney.”
I frowned. “Who’s that?”
“The guy who heads up scheduling. Also known as the human glue holding at least three departments together.”
“Oh, right. According to the metrics, he’s way overstaffed.”
“Okay, but according to reality, he’s overworked, not overstaffed,” she countered. “Mark knows every employee’s life situation. Who has a kid with special needs. Who’s going through a divorce. Who’s in night school. He balances shift swaps before they ever reach management. If he’s gone, scheduling will technically still function, but expect chaos. More call-outs. More burnout. More HR complaints.”
I leaned back, exhaling slowly through my nose. “Are you seriously telling me that my efficiency cuts would make everything less efficient? Because that’s what it’s starting to sound like.”
“What I’m telling you is that hospitals run on a lot more than just systems, Sullivan. No matter how many incredible machines you bring in, you still need the people who not only operate them, but the people who take care of the patients before and after those machines are used. The more patients you have, the more people you need to take care of them. That means a lot of people, and where there are a lot of people, there are a lot of—”
“Problems?”
She sighed. “Logistics. Lives that intertwine. Kids who are loved and students who are learning. It’s an ecosystem and it’s dependent on more than just progress or innovation. You need people like Mark who know which nurse’s kid has a ballet recital tonight and people like Emily who teach the student so the patient doesn’t sue us after.”
I stared at the ceiling for a moment, then back at her. “Who else on that list am I underestimating?”
For the next twenty minutes, she walked me through case after case. Not sob stories or emotional manipulation, but context. Skill sets that didn’t fit neatly into their job descriptions, and institutional knowledge that couldn’t be replaced with new software or streamlined workflows.
By the time she finished, she was smiling. “You look like someone just told you Santa isn’t real.”
“I hate Santa,” I muttered.
She snorted. “Come on. No one hates Santa. We hate the fact that he’s not real. There’s a difference.”
“Run some numbers with me,” I suddenly.
Her expression sharpened instantly, the humor melting away. “What kind of numbers?”
“If I…” I hesitated, the words heavier than they should’ve been. “If I kept all current staff positions intact, what happens?”
“If no one is fired and no hours are reduced?” Her eyes narrowed, and I knew that meant she was already calculating. “It would significantly impact operating margins.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’d have to offset that somewhere.”
“I know.”
She turned fully toward her keyboard, fingers hovering but not typing yet. “Where are you thinking of offsetting it?”
I met her gaze directly. “My compensation package.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
She leaned back slowly, folding her arms and holding my gaze. “You do realize your salary isn’t just income, right? It’s structured into multiple financial layers. Bonuses, performance incentives, equity triggers—”