“Doctor, a baby weighing over three kilograms meets criteria for surgery. Gia’s baby is already a giant at over four kilograms. What if complications arise?”
The assistant swallowed nervously, trying to find the right words. “Should we—”
“Are you the expert now?” Peter’s eyes flashed. “I’ve delivered hundreds of babies without making a single wrong call.”
The sound of the guardrail snapping interrupted his words. The assistant’s face paled as he glanced toward the delivery room, where my broken cries still filled the air. “She’s been laboring for over a day. If this goes on, the baby could be starved of oxygen…”
“It’s already been that long?” Peter muttered, looking briefly at the hallway banner proclaiming, “First, Do No Harm.”
A fleeting trace of concern crossed his face.
But as he reached for the delivery room door, Millie intercepted him with a cup of warm sweet tea.
“Doctor Peter, Gia has been crying for so long. She must be thirsty. Should I go in with you to give her some tea?”
Peter’s expression darkened. “Did she order you to do that again? And you still serve her? What makes her think she deserves it?”