Beckett was summoned just before 7 p.m.
The hospital’s fluorescent lights buzzed faintly as the late afternoon faded toward evening. Dr. Beckett’s office, cluttered with half-empty coffee cups and stacks of patient charts, felt more like a throne room where he ruled with a sneer and a touch of cruelty.
He’d barely finished dictating a note when the message came through — “Dr. Holloway wants to see you. Urgently.” No warning. No explanation.
The office door was already open when he arrived.
The director didn’t look up right away. He was sitting behind his desk, flipping through a manila folder with a hard, unreadable expression.
Beckett leaned against the doorway, posture casual. Arrogant.
“You rang?”
Dr. Holloway didn’t return the smirk. “Sit down.”
That tone. It scraped across Bec
