[I understand you're grieving the loss of your children and upset with Miss Wells, but please don’t let personal grudges interfere with work. These dirty tactics won’t just ruin two brilliant doctors—they’ll cost countless patients their lives.]
I replied flatly. [You make a good point. I forgot to deal with you. You’re fired. A third-party firm will be taking over your role.]
Right after that, I called the external management company and gave direct orders.
“Take full control of HR and logistics at my hospital. Anyone who speaks up for Irene or Henry, send them all to Africa.”
“If they refuse to go, have them repay their training and development costs in full.”
I gently caressed the urns holding my children’s ashes, speaking each word with steady resolve.
All those doctors supporting Henry in the comment section were once underprivileged students whom I personally funded with real money.
It was I who gave them the opportunity to study abroad and become what they are today.
And yet now, one by one, they only knew how to flatter Irene and Henry. They’d completely forgotten who it was that nurtured them into the skilled doctors they became.