The boardroom lights were too bright.
Eliot sat at the center of a long, sterile table, surrounded by people in suits and white coats who used to greet him in elevators. Now, they barely made eye contact.
Dr. Alan Reese led the session with clipped professionalism.
"Dr. Eliot Wren, this is a formal internal review based on allegations of unauthorized end-of-life intervention. You've been linked to the care of seven terminal patients, all of whom experienced sudden declines shortly before death. A formal letter, sent to Daniel Park, has been submitted as evidence. It bears your signature."
Eliot didn't look away. "I wrote it."
There was a stir. Papers shuffled. Someone muttered something behind a hand.
From behind the one-way observation glass, Cara watched.
She stood still, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes locked on Eliot. She didn't blink.
Dr. Reese folded his hands. "You're admitting to performing lethal interventions. Voluntarily."
"Yes."
"Without consent?"
A pause.
"I believed it was mercy. I believed they wanted it."
Reese leaned forward, voice colder now. "But you didn't ask."
Eliot's jaw clenched. "No. I didn't."
A long silence.
One of the board members, an older physician Eliot once trained with, asked gently, "Why?"
Eliot swallowed, then looked up.
"My sister died in a facility like this one. Young. In pain. I held her hand every night, and I listened to her beg. She didn't want to suffer. She just wanted dignity. And I—" his voice cracked, "—I told her to hold on. I told her to fight. I was selfish. And she died screaming."
He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
"When I saw that same fear in other patients… I thought I could give them what I couldn't give her. A peaceful ending. A kind one. I wasn't trying to play God. I was trying to be a brother again."
Behind the glass, Cara's eyes burned. Her hand pressed against the cold glass, as if she could somehow reach through it.
Dr. Reese didn't respond for a long time.
"Thank you, Dr. Wren. We'll deliberate privately. You'll be contacted within 48 hours regarding disciplinary actions and potential legal referral."
Eliot stood slowly.
He didn't ask for sympathy.
And no one offered it.
He turned toward the door—and for a moment, just a heartbeat—his eyes met Cara's through the glass.
She didn't smile.
But she nodded.
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End of Chapter 16.
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