Chapter 275: Conversation
Chapter 275: Conversation
"Gabriel, Zola." "Our director thinks very highly of your situation and has personally arranged a meeting room to speak with you in person. Please follow me."
Lily noticed he said "the two of you," which automatically left her out.
She said nothing, just quietly fell in behind Gabriel.
The hallway leading to the conference room was long, the lights blindingly bright, and every door along the way was shut tight.
Lily walked across the polished tiles that were smooth enough to reflect her shadow. Her mind was still racing — the security footage, Conrad's reaction, the head nurse's split-second panic — all these fragments kept rearranging themselves in her head, but no matter how she pieced them together, they never formed a complete picture.
The man who brought them pushed open the conference room door and gestured for them to come in.
The moment Lily walked in, her eyes swept the room out of habit.
A long table, black leather chairs, water bottles lined up neatly on the surface.
By the window sat a man in a dark gray suit. He looked around thirty-five or thirty-six, with sharp, hard features and a pair of eyes that were watching the doorway without showing a thing.
The director of Sunrise Hospital was surprisingly young.
The thought had barely formed in her head when she noticed something else — the moment the foreign director saw her, something flickered in his eyes, just for an instant.
Not curiosity, not scrutiny, but the involuntary pause that comes from recognizing someone.
He knew her.
Not "knew" in the sense of knowing her name. Something more specific. But he didn't seem like a fan either.
Lily quietly looked away and guided Zola to the seat closest to the door.
Gabriel sat on Zola's other side. The two of them never let go of each other's hands.
The conference room door swung shut behind them with a dull thud.
He stood at the head of the table in a dark gray suit jacket over a neatly pressed black turtleneck. He looked too clean and put-together to be someone who actually worked in a hospital.
His features were sharp and hard — high cheekbones, prominent brow — and his eyes were like a lake in winter, giving nothing away.
Lily's first thought was that he was too young. The director of a high-end private hospital, and he looked no older than thirty-five or thirty-six, maybe even younger.
"Please, sit down." His voice was low and steady, the tone of someone chairing a perfectly routine business meeting.
Lily helped Zola into her seat. Zola's eyes were so swollen she could barely open them. She slumped back in her chair like a rag doll with all the stuffing pulled out, her lips pale and drained of color.
Gabriel sat beside her, one hand holding hers the whole time, the other balled into a fist on the table, his knuckles white.
The conference room was large. Seven or eight people were seated on either side of the long table.
Along with the director, there was the head of the medical affairs department, the director of nursing, a legal advisor clutching a folder, and two middle-aged men in suits Lily didn't recognize, both stone-faced.
Why wasn't Conrad here?
Director Tobias skipped the pleasantries. He didn't even wait for everyone to settle before he started talking.
His pace was measured, unhurried. "First, on behalf of Sunrise Hospital, I want to express our deepest regret for what Zola and Gabriel have been through. We understand the pain of any parent who loses a newborn, and we are prepared to accept the responsibility that falls to us."
He said "regret," not "apology." "Accept responsibility," not "admit medical negligence."
Lily felt a cold laugh rise inside her, though her face stayed completely still.
"Following a preliminary internal review," Tobias tilted his head slightly toward the legal advisor beside him, as if checking the wording, "we believe there may have been some unforeseen adverse factors during the procedure. In light of this, the hospital is prepared to offer the following settlement: a full refund of all medical expenses, plus a humanitarian compensation payment of one point two million dollars to the family."
One point two million dollars.
Zola's head snapped up.
Her swollen, bloodshot eyes locked onto Tobias. Her lips trembled violently, and when she finally spoke, the words came out like they were being forced through clenched teeth. "You... what did you just say?"
Gabriel's grip tightened. His face had gone red, and his throat worked up and down like he was fighting hard to hold something back.
Tobias's expression didn't change at all. He leaned forward slightly, his voice still smooth, almost cold in its calm. "Zola, I understand how you're feeling right now. This compensation is not meant to put a price on your daughter's life. It's one way for our hospital to express remorse. And of course, if you feel the amount is insufficient, we're open to further discussion."
"The value of my daughter?" Zola suddenly laughed. It was a sharp, cutting sound, like a nail dragged across glass, and it echoed through the large room in a way that made everyone's skin crawl. "You think my daughter can be measured in money? One point two million dollars? You think my daughter's life is worth one point two million dollars?"
Her voice climbed higher with each word until she was nearly screaming.
Gabriel wrapped an arm around her shoulders and murmured something close to her ear, but Zola wasn't hearing any of it. She struggled to get up, her chair scraping loudly behind her.
Lily reached over and pressed a hand to her arm. She could feel the muscles there, hard as stone, Zola's whole body shaking beyond her control.
"Zola, stay calm. Let them finish." Lily's voice was quiet, but this time Zola didn't pull away. She just sat there gasping, tears spilling over again.
Lily turned and looked directly at Tobias. She noticed that this young director had been watching her the entire time.
No — not just watching. Studying her. That calm, almost ruthless scrutiny made her deeply uncomfortable.
"Tobias," Lily kept her voice even, but each word came out clean and clear, "the compensation can wait. What we need right now is the security footage from the operating room. A moment ago the head nurse said she needed to check with her superiors. Now that you're here, you should be able to give us a straight answer."
Tobias's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The movement was so fast Lily almost thought she'd imagined it. But her instincts had never let her down — when he heard the words "security footage," his pupils had contracted, just barely, just for a moment.
The air in the room shifted.
Tobias said nothing. Instead he turned to look at the head of medical affairs sitting to his right. The balding man in his forties took the cue immediately. He cleared his throat and arranged his face into the kind of practiced, professional smile that made your skin crawl. "Lily, regarding the security footage — we've already followed up with the head nurse from the operating room. Unfortunately, due to a system malfunction, part of the footage from the doctor's office and the consultation room on the day of the procedure was lost. Our technical team is working on recovery, but at this point... the chances of retrieving it are not looking good."