Chapter 163

Chapter 163
Olivia slung her purse over her shoulder, giving one last wave at Dr. Wilson's direction. After saying goodbye, she walked through the now quieter corridors of the hospital.

Most of the outpatient clinics had already closed, leaving only the emergency department bustling with its usual urgency. Nurses hurried past with charts in hand while the occasional gurney rolled by.

“Finally, I can go home and rest,” she said with a relieved smile. But perhaps she had jinxed herself saying it aloud.

She had barely taken a few steps when one of the administrative assistants hurried toward her.

“Dr. Hilton! The Hospital Director would like to see you in his office.”

Olivia stopped, her temples scrunched into a frown.

Again? she thought with a silent groan. Twice in one day—a new record. She should have expected it. Knowing Sarah, she wouldn't have wasted a second reporting the incident to someone in authority.

“Thank you. I'll head there now.”

The assistant nodded and walked away.

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose. The day had already been exhausting, and it seemed it wasn't over yet. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the director's office.

When she arrived, she paused outside the door, took one steadying breath, and knocked twice.

“Come in.” The familiar voice said.

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside. The Director sat in his usual spot, behind his desk. But he wasn't alone.

Sarah sat comfortably in one of the chairs, her arms folded triumphantly across her chest. The smug curve of her lips widened the instant Olivia entered, as though she'd already won.

“Dr. Hilton, this won't take a while. Please, have a seat.”

Olivia did as instructed without sparing Sarah another glance.

The room fell into a tense silence.

Sarah was the first to break it.

“I'll make this simple.” She leaned forward confidently. “I want Dr. Olivia Hilton removed from my grandmother's case.”

The Director remained expressionless. But Olivia could tell that he's annoyed, even slightly irritated at the situation.

“And your reason?” He asked, his eyes focused on his pen, playing with it by twirling it in his fingers.

“Olivia and I had a history. I just really don't like her. Besides, I don't believe she's the most qualified neurosurgeon for my grandmother. I'd prefer someone with more experience.”

The Director finally stopped playing with his pen. He slowly folded his hands on the desk.

His gaze shifted from Sarah to Olivia.

Then back again.

“I'm curious,” he said. “Who, exactly, would you consider more qualified than Dr. Hilton?”

Sarah opened her mouth confidently. But she couldn't say a word; she had no knowledge or even awareness of whom she might want assigned to her grandmother's care.

The director continued before she took too long to respond.

“Dr. Hilton here is the youngest Neurosurgeon this hospital has ever appointed. She leads our most complex cranial procedures, has one of the highest surgical success rates in the country, and is the physician other neurosurgeons consult when faced with cases they cannot handle.”

The director sighed then added, “If your concern is qualifications, then I can assure you there is no better doctor in this hospital to oversee your grandmother's treatment. Dr. Hilton, by far, is the best.”

The smugness slowly drained from Sarah's face.

Olivia said nothing. She hadn't come here to defend herself. Her work had already done that for her.

Sarah had clearly expected the director to indulge her whims. Instead, reality had slapped her in the face.

“I believe we're done here. You may go now, Dr. Hilton,” the director said.

A faint smile tugged at Olivia's lips. Holding Sarah's furious gaze, she silently mouthed, "See? I told you."

Without another word, she turned and walked out. Watching Sarah's confidence crumble had been oddly satisfying.

—

The night air greeted Olivia with an icy chill. It felt colder than usual, and even her coat offered little protection as she made her way toward the parking lot.

She slowed her pace and reached into her purse for her car keys. Her fingers searched past lip balm, her phone, a hand sanitizer, and a bottle of vitamins before finally closing around the key fob.

Just as she was about to turn to the corner where her car was parked, her attention shifted to a sleek black sedan on her right.

Her brows knitted together.

That car...

She knew it.

Before she could think further, the driver's door swung open. A familiar figure stepped out.

“Isabelle?” Olivia muttered.

Clayton's older sister was the last person she had expected to be waiting for her this late at night.

Isabelle closed the car door and crossed the short distance between them. She stopped only when she was close enough to speak without raising her voice.

“The nurse at the front desk said you were in the middle of surgery when I asked for you, so I decided to wait here.”

Olivia masked her surprise behind a calm, unreadable expression. She had waited all this time? Knowing Isabelle's impatient personality, that alone meant whatever had brought her here couldn't be trivial.

“What happened, Isabelle?” She asked quietly, a flicker of concern crossing her face.

"Clayton's been drinking," Isabelle blurted out. "For three days now."

Olivia visibly relaxed. Her fingers played with her car keys.

After a while, a faint, sardonic smile tugged at her lips as she lifted a brow.

“So he's celebrating that I'm gone?" she replied coolly. “He can't stop drinking?”

The idea was almost laughable. Clayton drinking three days straight? Impossible. He was the very definition of discipline. Isabelle had to be talking about someone else.

Frustration flashed across Isabelle's face. She clenched her fists before forcing them to relax, but the worry etched into her exhausted features remained.

“My brother hasn't shown up to work either.” She rubbed her forehead wearily. “I've talked to him, but he won't listen to me. He won't even listen to Mom. And Dad...” She let out a helpless sigh. “Dad isn't an option. If he goes anywhere near Clayton right now, they'll be throwing punches before either of them finishes a sentence.”

Her gaze searched Olivia's face as though she were her last hope.

“I've run out of options. You're the only one left—the one person he might still listen to.”

Olivia meets Isabelle's eyes without blinking. In a quiet voice filled with resolve, she said, “I'm sorry but I can't help you with that.” She had long since promised herself not to interfere with affairs that's not her concern. She turned away, making her way to her car with quick long strides.

“Olivia, wait!”

Isabelle barricading her body to halt her steps. “Please.” Tears clouded her eyes as she pleaded.